


Essential

by sleepdeprivedphilosopher



Category: Carry On Series - Rainbow Rowell
Genre: Angst and Feels, Author Is Sleep Deprived, Excessive use of italics, F/M, First In The Fandom, How Do I Tag, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Nightmares, Oblivious Simon Snow, Origin Story, Penny Is A Badass, Place Your Bets, Seventh Year AU, Simon is in Denial, Slow Burn, Telepathic Bond, Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch Is Bad at Feelings, What else is new, agatha is apathetic, and simon would be lost without her, and that's not an euphemism, author has a problem with telepathy, baz and outline the snark fight of the ages, baz becomes a damsel in distress, baz has a burning wand, baz has pretty eyes, baz uses magic google maps, because I think it has been long enough, because he's a paranoid prat, cause I'm a sucker for that, even more than baz who is the actual vampire, excessive use of brackets, have to stay on brand so, he literally has a burning wand, how much more oblivious can simon get?, if only simon could do the same, in which she uses it too often, let's find out and groan about it together, listen to your heart simon, magical mental mind connection, no beta we die like men, not that he'll admit that, now featuring soft simon, or at least i like to think so, or was it?, penny is intrigued, penny is the little engine that could, penny is too smart not to see what is going on in front of her, simon and baz are terrible at communicating, simon is bloodthristy, simon is the unstoppable force to baz's immoveable wall, simon ranks baz's expressions, simon snow is tired of saving the world, so they're basically couple goals, something I'm making up, stayed up way too late to write this, stop being in denial simon, the return of soft baz, we are taking a sharp turn away from canon my dudes, what is this years magical threat?, your heart needs you
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-11
Updated: 2019-12-05
Packaged: 2020-01-11 09:38:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 22,978
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18427922
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sleepdeprivedphilosopher/pseuds/sleepdeprivedphilosopher
Summary: Mid-way through the current yearly crisis, Simon gets a letter. The letter states that his current adversary has taken the person who means the most to him and that Simon has three weeks to find them before they're killed.Simon expects things to go in the same formula they always do. It wouldn’t be the first time that someone has kidnapped Agatha, it happens so regularly that Penny created a beacon spell for her last year. So while Simon is a bit concerned about his girlfriend, he knows that once Agatha says the incantation, he’ll be able to locate her and dispatch whoever it is that is menacing them this year.Only Agatha is still at Watford.And Baz has gone missing.





	1. what lurks outside

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> another threat to the world of mages is afoot and simon is resigned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey, person reading this if anyone is reading this. maybe I'm shouting into the void. 
> 
> hey, void 
> 
> so I haven't written a fan work in ages. most of my old stuff is on fanfiction.net and hasn't been updated since 2013 (and will probs never be updated), but I fell in love with Carry On and its fandom so I couldn't resist diving back in. so I made an account and here I am. 
> 
> I'm not sure how long this story will end up being or how often it'll be updated, but I am going to try my best. I'm new in town so any feedback or recommendations would be lovely if you have the time to spare. thanks
> 
> chapter title comes from _Remember the Tinman_ by Tracy Chapman

**Simon**

Baz is sneering at me from across the dining hall. This is par for the course with us. Baz has a habit of sneering at me, usually as a result of me glaring at him. Which I’ll admit to often doing. It isn’t my fault that he is evil, and evil people should be glared at, so they know they aren’t getting away with hiding their evilness. Baz thinks he is the master at hiding his plots.  


So I glare at Baz to inform him that he isn't fooling me with his perfect hair and perfect grades, and how he always seems to know everything about anything, or how good he is at football. I know his true nature, and I feel it is my duty as the Hero of Mages or whatever to remind him of this constantly. I can’t have him thinking I'm getting complacent. 

“Simon.” I hear Penny’s voice seconds before I feel her poke me in the side. Hard enough to make me drop my scone. I stare at the scone crumbled on my plate before lifting my head to meet her annoyed stare. “Have you been listening to me at all?” she asks. 

I shrug. “Sure.” 

She does not look convinced. “Then repeat the last thing I said.” 

“Umm,” I say, worried, until inspiration strikes (as it rarely does with me). “Have you been listening to me at all,” I quote in my best Penny voice, and give her a toothy grin. 

Penny looks even more unimpressed with my reply. “Don’t try to be witty Simon you know you’ll end up cutting yourself on the words.” 

Agatha hides a laugh into her tea. She’s my girlfriend shouldn’t she be on my side? And doesn’t that mean she can’t laugh at me? I shoot her a look.

Agatha gives me a fond look in return. “Just because we’re dating Simon doesn’t mean I’m not allowed to laugh at you sometimes.” 

I frown. Am I always that predictable? Do I wear my emotions on my sleeve at all times? 

“You’re an open book Si,” Penny confirms my unspoken thoughts. 

This makes me frown deeper. I pick my scone back up and take a bite. 

Now Penny’s lips are turning up again. “Don’t make that face. It’s endearing.” 

I raise my eyebrows (or I try to anyway). I can never manage to raise them properly. My entire forehead comes with them, so I always end up just looking confused. Baz can raise one eyebrow, and he never looks confused (the bastard). 

“Anyway,” Penny says, interrupting my eyebrow woes. “Now that I have your attention.” She gives me a look. “I do have your attention, right?” 

I’m trying not to roll my eyes. I know that I can go off into my head sometimes, but she doesn’t have to be rude about it. Penny is constantly talking, and sometimes I can’t keep up, so I end up tuning her out. She knows this about me, and she usually isn’t too bothered by it. Penny once told me I'm like her soundboard. She’ll tell me all about her ideas because hearing them said out loud helps her think, even if I am not fully listening. Penny claims she can hear the faults in her logic easier or something. For my part, I find her voice soothing. It calms me down and lets me not think for a while. It works for us. 

So this must be important if me not paying attention is making her so disgruntled. “Yeah, Pen I’m listening,” I answer. 

“Good because this kind of concerns you,” Penny tells me. 

Agatha snorts and somehow the sound isn’t unladylike. I’m not sure how she does that. “What doesn’t around here?” she mutters and adds another sugar cube into her tea. She’s already added three, and even I think four is a bit much for one cuppa. 

Penny ignores her. “Have you heard anything from the Mage recently?” she asks me. 

I shake my head. “No, not since first term.” 

Penny’s expression shifts a little, but whatever feeling that inspired it is gone before I can register it. “Right well there have been reports lately of magicians losing their ability to speak with magic.” 

“They’re losing their voice?” I ask, and I can’t help but glance over at Baz. He tried to steal my voice in fifth year. I know this even if I can’t prove it. Baz doesn’t look up to meet my glare as he is too busy adding another sugar cube to his tea. He adds even more sugar than Agatha does. I’d be willing to bet he already has four in there. He drinks his tea disgustingly pale and sugary. You’d think with his whole vampire evilness he’d drink it bitter and black, but Baz lives to be contradictory. 

Penny shakes her head. “No, they aren’t losing their voice, Simon. I’d have said that if it were the case. I said they are losing their ability to speak with magic. Whenever they cast a spell, it doesn’t land.” She looks grim but also has that layer of curiosity that always preludes one of our missions. I feel a sense of resignation overcome me. I didn’t think we'd manage to go through a full year without some sort of crisis, but I was hoping to have one semester of peace. Guess I should be thankful we lasted as long as we did, all the way to third term this time. That’s a new record. 

Agatha, in contrast, looks apathetic though she tries to appear interested. “In England?” she asks. 

“It is happening all over the world,” Penny answers. “My dad has been called in to take a look. They think it has something to do with the Humdrum.” 

Agatha begins to butter a croissant which means she has fully checked out of the conversation now. I’m not sure what her deal is lately, but ever since last year, she’s been less inclined to listen to any topics regarding my grand destiny. I can’t say I blame her. I’m getting a bit tired of it all too. 

“Right,” I say when Penny stops talking and starts staring at me. “What?” I ask when several seconds have passed. 

“You know what,” Penny says. “We need to figure this out.” 

Why can’t we leave this to the adults for once? Is what I want to say. Instead, I say, “Yeah I know. Let’s meet up in the library after class.” 

Penny is satisfied with this, and she turns to poke Agatha. I dunno when Penny decided that poking her friends was an okay way to get their attention. Her nails are too sharp for that. “Are you coming with us Ags?” she asks. 

My girlfriend shakes her head. “I have homework,” she excuses. “Maybe tomorrow.” 

Penny is clearly unsurprised by this as she is already turning to face me. “I’ll see you in class then. I have that essay for Magic Words due today that I wanted to look over before turning in.” She picks up her dishes and stands up. “Start thinking of theories,” she calls to me over her shoulder. 

What theories? I’m not sure what exactly she thinks I am going to come up with, Penny is the smart one. I just hit things with a sword. 

...or go off. 

I shake my head to clear it before shoving the last of my scone into my mouth and standing up. “Want to take a walk around the grounds before class starts?” I ask Agatha as I pick up my dishes. 

Agatha finishes off her tea and smiles at me. “Sounds lovely Simon.” 

We put our dishes in the proper bins and head towards the doors. I take Agatha’s hand as we pass by Baz’s table. 

Baz meets my eyes briefly. I give him one last glare for good measure as I leave the dining hall. 

I can feel his eyes on me before the door cuts them off.


	2. trust in no one

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> simon doesn't like people knowing things about him. baz doesn't like when simon won't let him do his homework in peace.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey, void
> 
> I'd like to thank you for your support of this work. I hope it lives up to expectations. as mentioned I'm new here so any feedback or suggestions would be super!
> 
> I'm too tired to be writing this. enjoy!
> 
> chapter title comes from _Remember the Tinman_ by Tracy Chapman

**Simon**

It is about ten minutes till curfew, and I am in the same position I’ve been in all week. My head on the table, an open dusty book in front of me, and the feeling of Penny’s tangible disapproval hanging in the air. Penny and I have been hitting the library every evening after class, and we have yet to find anything helpful. Or rather Penny has been unable to find anything helpful as I generally don’t. I’d say not for lack of trying, but I’ve never had much of an attention span, especially not when it comes to reading. 

“Penny this is ridiculous,” I say for the third time this week. “We aren’t getting anywhere. Maybe we ought to wait until the Mage gets back. I’m sure he can give us some answers.” 

Penny raises her eyebrow at me (she and Baz are weirdly similar sometimes. It’s a bit unsettling). “You think he would actually tell us anything Si?” 

I shrug. “Wouldn’t be the first time.” 

Penny’s eyebrow climbs higher. “It would be the first time in three years. He hasn’t kept us in the loop since fourth year Simon, and even that is an exaggeration.” 

“I wouldn’t go that far,” I object, loyal. Though to be fair Pen does have a point. The Mage was barely around last year, and when he was at Watford, he never showed up to tell us anything useful. There was that whole business with the hares, so I was admittedly distracted, but I do remember asking him about it, and him telling me something noncommittal about my grand destiny (honestly it isn’t something I like to admit even in my thoughts-especially there-but sometimes I’m glad that the Mage isn’t around much. He has a way of reminding me of the weight I carry, and though that can be grounding it can also be exhausting). 

“Simon,” Penny huffs at me. “Can we please focus?” 

I begrudgingly lift my head off the table though I don’t straighten my posture. “I am focused.” 

“No,” Penny disagrees in that condensing way she sometimes has. “You’re not.” 

“Fine,” I say and it comes out a bit more heatedly than I’d intended. “You’re right as always. I’m not focused.” 

That tone gets her attention, and I can see her face soften. The vague annoyance slips from her expression to be replaced by her patented look of concern. “Simon are you okay?” she asks me. 

I rub a hand over my face, my fingers yanking my features down briefly. “I’m fine,” I reassure her. “Just tired.” 

Penny looks at me thoughtfully. “We have been at this all week.” She closes the book she’s spent the better part of an hour skimming and sets it aside. “How about we put this on pause for now. I’ll get in touch with my dad over the weekend and see if he has any updates for us. We’ll pick this back up on Monday.” She smiles at me. “I think we could use a break.” 

Pen is essentially the little engine that could. I swear she never runs out of steam. So she means me, that I could use a break. Penny’s perceptive, even more so when it comes to me, so it is no surprise that she’s noticed how worn out I am. I can never tell if I like that she knows me so well or if it worries me. I suppose it depends on what she uses that knowledge for, I guess it would concern me more if I didn’t know her just as well. 

That being said I can identify a peace offering when I see one. Penny has realized she's been pushing too hard and is now pulling back. I return her smile. “Yeah, I think that would be for the best. We should probably pack up anyway. Curfew is soon.” 

She tilts her head at me. “Since when have you ever cared about curfew?” 

I chuckle. “Yeah well, I have to start caring sometime. I should set a good example this year for the little ones. Being the Chosen One and all.” I try to keep the bitterness out of my voice. 

Penny still picks up on it (like I said she’s perceptive). She puts a hand on my shoulder and squeezes. “Get some rest Si. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.” 

I squeeze her hand before stepping back. “Goodnight,” I say and leave Penny to sort and put away our mess. The few times I’ve tried to help her have only led to her reshelving all of my mistakes. If Watford had a library page position Pen would be all over that. I think shelving books is her weird way of meditating. 

“Goodnight,” she calls back to me with her arms already full of books heading in the direction of the magical history (I think) section. 

I grin fondly at the sight and close the door behind me. 

 

When I get back to our room, Baz is there for once. He’s sitting at his desk with the lamp on and seems to be working on something. 

The door shuts behind me, and I frown at him. Could be homework. Could be the beginnings of a plot. I don’t even consider the fact that we both live here. The target being in the room wouldn’t stop Baz from plotting. If anything that is almost more likely. It’d be just like him to try to throw me off that way. 

I step closer to his desk. Close enough to get a whiff of his posh shampoo. He must have just showered since his hair is damp and hanging loosely around his face (looks better than when he slicks it back, so I don’t know why he bothers). Baz doesn’t like hairdryers (he claims it fries his hair). If I could work a hairdryer without it blowing up in my face (and I mean that literally), I would. Last year on my first official date with Ags I tried to style my hair. Needlessly to say my magic and Agatha’s blowdryer didn’t get along. Baz made cracks for an entire two weeks about my singed curls (after he had yelled at me about the state of our bathroom). Still, I’d like to be able to blowdry my hair. I hate having wet hair and **Some Like it Hot** never works correctly. 

I try to get a glimpse of whatever Baz is writing, but he notices and flips his notebook shut. “Can I help you, Snow?” he drawls while keeping his eyes on the desk. 

“What’re doing?” I ask him, or maybe I demand — something in between. 

“Homework,” Baz answers in a bored tone. He is still not looking at me. 

I huff. “Homework? Really? You never leave assignments this last minute.” 

“Well,” Baz says conversationally. “Maybe I’m getting a head start.” 

I snort. I wish he’d look at me. It’s annoying when he acts like I’m not worth acknowledging. “Just admit that you’re up to something.” 

“I’m up to staying on top of my assignments,” Baz says. “Some of us care about our grades after all. Have you even studied for our verbal Elocution assessment yet?” he asks. "Not that studying would make much difference, of course, since you’ll probably just get a failing grade like always.” 

My face gets hot. “How do you know about my assessment scores? Those are kept private.” That has always been Miss Possibelf’s policy. 

“We live together,” Baz needlessly informs me as he finally turns to look at me. “Call it an educated guess.” 

I don’t like him having enough knowledge on me to make an educated guess (especially one as spot-on as that one) it makes my chest feel tight and weird. 

“Anyway,” Baz continues while I try to piece together a response. “As engaging as this conversation has been, Snow I’d like to get back to my assignments now if you’d be so kind and fuck off from my personal space.” He waves a dismissive hand at me. 

That pisses me off and I step closer to him. “Not until you show me what you’re up to.” I’ll never be able to sleep knowing he is up working on something.

Baz looks at me like I’m a great burden he has to unjustly bare. That expression pisses me off more than most (rank 4). His smug superiority being a bit higher on the scale (rank 3). His sneers are ranked surprisingly low (rank 25), maybe due to my constant exposure to them. 

“I already told you what I am up to,” he says still giving me that exasperated look. 

“I don’t believe you.” 

“That’s hardly my problem.” 

I don’t know what to say (I never really do in our arguments. It had been so much easier back when we were kids throwing punches. I was always better at that). So instead of answering, I decide to silently fum at him. 

Baz debates something before opening his notebook back up and throwing it down in my line of vision. 

I’m surprised he gave in that easily. Maybe he just wants to go to sleep too. Or maybe that is just what he wants me to think. 

“Well?” he says when I make no move towards it. “Are you going to check it out?” 

I lean a bit closer to him, and I can feel him tense next to me. He doesn’t move away though. He probably wants to make sure I only read what he wants me to read. I lean closer again until my hand is resting on the back of his chair. The scent of his shampoo is even stronger now. 

I start to read the page, and my lips turn down. Baz had been telling the truth. All I am reading is his Greek notes. Or at least I think that’s Greek. Maybe he wrote his plot in Greek to throw me off. 

“Happy?” he asks after I’d been scanning the page for a minute. His handwriting is way too neat for note taking and why does he always write in pen? Is Baz too perfect for typos? Does he have to be amazing in everything he does? It just isn’t fair. 

“Satisfied?” Baz asks when I still don’t answer. I look away from the lined paper, and he’s staring at me like I am an idiot (rank 22). Baz's eyes are greyer up close, and the cool light from the desk lamp turn them bluer like the ocean during a storm. 

I feel an odd jerk in my chest that makes me step back from him and remove my hand. I can see the tension leave him at my retreat and it's kind of annoying. Am I really that unbearable to be around? 

Wait why do I even care? 

I shake my head to clear it. “Yeah fine whatever. Work on your homework. I’m going to get ready for bed.” I start for the bathroom door. 

“Thanks for your permission, Snow,” Baz drones. “I live for your approval.” 

I turn back around to glare at him, but he is already looking away. He has focused again on his homework and back to ignoring my existence. 

I might slam the bathroom door behind me — just a little.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this post was completed at 4:18 AM on a Saturday morning. my shift starts at 11:00 AM. why do I keep doing this to myself?
> 
> -still sleep deprived.


	3. skin and bone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> baz engages in guerrilla warfare. simon is oblivious.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey void, 
> 
> I finally have an update for this story. told ya I wasn't abandoning it. sorry, it is so short, but at least I've got an idea about where the plot is actually heading for this so the updates should be longer in the future. 
> 
> but it is me so who knows? 
> 
> enjoy!
> 
> chapter title comes from _Remember the Tinman_ by Tracy Chapman

**Baz**

I’m already in bed when Snow gets in. I listen to his footsteps as he makes his way over to our en suite, and I don’t open my eyes until I hear the shower turn on.  


The Scooby gang has been busy lately. I assume they’re caught up in the usual yearly crisis. I’m not sure what they’ve been fighting exactly so far him and Bunce have outdone themselves in the secret part of their secret mission. Usually I’d have found out by now, but honestly, I’m not too keen on it this year. Snow is in enough of my thoughts that trying to find out what he is up to as well is just exhausting.

Snow has been coming back to our room later and later with leaves in his hair, dirt on his face, and smelling like a forest, blood, and smoke. The state he’s in means that once he gets back, he’ll head to the bathroom immediately to shower (I’ll admit that I appreciate this even if he isn’t doing it for my sake).

He’s been staying out so late that he’s been missing dinner. He’s falling asleep in classes. I’ve been watching the progression of his dark circles as the weeks go by without any change.  


I try to pretend that it doesn’t bother me. That I don't care, but even I think things have gotten to the point where it is blatant that I do. 

I don’t take as long in the shower so that there will be hot water for him. I’ll reheat his tea for him when he isn’t in the room so that he has actual drinkable access to caffeine. I’ll leave chip bags in easy sight for him to grab and pretend not to notice the crumbs he leaves. I’ll forget to put my homework away and stay out of the room long enough for him to take advantage.  


I’ll leave the window open even if it means having to wear an extra jumper to sleep. 

Overall it is pretty pathetic behavior, and if Snow weren’t so completely oblivious, maybe he’d notice. Thankfully on top of his usual idiocy, he’s distracted with a quest, so he won’t see how I’ll sometimes clean his side of the room when I clean my own.

I’m not sure why I keep doing it. I know that I’m in love with him, but I’ve never been this soft with him before. Maybe it’s because this mission seems to be taking more of a toll on him than usual. Maybe it’s because Bunce is looking too worn herself to mother him. Maybe it’s because him and Wellbelove seem to be on the outs again. Maybe it’s because the Mage isn’t around, and if he were, he probably wouldn’t care.

Maybe it’s because no one else will, least of all Snow himself. 

Maybe it’s because whenever he drinks the tea or finds what he’s misplaced or gets a 75% on his Magic Words assignment his shoulders lose some of their tension and he’ll sigh like he can breathe again. 

Maybe I’ve fallen in love with that sigh. Maybe I always want him to breathe easy. 

It doesn’t matter why really. The point of it all is that I keep doing it and Snow hasn’t caught on yet so I can keep doing it. 

It is almost like guerrilla warfare only instead of attacking him I’m taking care of him. If me from last year were around to witness this, he’d be disgusted. 

Hell current me is disgusted, but just because I’m disgusted doesn’t mean I’ve figured out how to stop. 

The door opens, and Snow reenters the room. I watch his progress to his bed and note that if I hadn’t moved his backpack earlier, he’d have tripped over it. He pushes aside his blankets and climbs into bed. 

He lets out a little sigh as his eyes close. 

I close mine at the sound. 

 

**Simon**

When I get up, I notice that Baz isn’t in our room. I find this strange; usually, I am the first one up between us. Still, I don’t really think much of it when I go down to the dining hall and find his spot next to Dev and Niall empty. 

It is probably nothing, though, right? Baz is probably just getting in an early morning rat snack. I’ve been too busy with the magicless spells quest to keep an eye on his feeding schedule, but he was in the room last night, so maybe he switched?

There is a growing pit in my stomach though, and it only gets worse the longer the day goes on. When they call the roll in Greek he doesn’t answer; he doesn’t respond in Magic Words or Elocution. He isn’t in the dining hall for lunch or tea either. He is even missing dinner. 

The pit obviously the size of a football now makes me turn to Penny. “Where’s Baz?” I ask her. 

Penny tilts her head at me and finishes chewing her bite of roast beef. “I’m not sure Simon,” she answers. “Wouldn’t you know? You live with him.” 

Penny does have a point. Now I’m not sure why I asked her. I guess I am just used to Penny knowing everything that it is my default response whenever I’m confused.  


“Was he in the room this morning?” Penny continues. 

I shake my head. “No, he wasn’t.” I glance back over at Baz’s table where Dev and Niall are sitting by themselves. The two boys are carrying on a conversation, easy as anything as if they aren’t missing a vital part of their trio. What do Dev and Niall talk about anyway when Baz isn’t there? 

“He could be sick?” Agatha suggests. “Maybe he left before you woke up Simon.” 

I shake my head again. “Why would our Profs call roll then? Wouldn’t the nurse send someone to tell them?” I don’t wait for either of them to respond before adding, “What if he is out plotting somewhere with the Old Families? Maybe they arranged a meeting for today or some sort of day retreat. It’s a Friday it could even be a weekend retreat.” 

Penny and Agatha exchange a look.

“Maybe,” Penny agrees vaguely after a moment though she’s clearly not sold on my theory. “In any case, we have bigger things to worry about than Baz right now. We need to check out those symbols in the woods.” 

I grumble a bit. What’s more critical than Baz? He could be plotting to murder me. I can’t exactly save the day if I’m dead, now can I? I don’t say that though instead, I say, “I still don’t know what symbols in the Wavering Wood have to do with people not being able to cast.” 

“The symbols are similar to the ones we found in the _Acciperenecron_ ,” Penny explains to me again. “It’s the best lead we have so far.” 

“Yeah,” I sigh. “Let’s get going then.” I turn to look at Agatha. “Are you coming with us?” 

Agatha shakes her head. “No, I’m rather tired. I think I’ll turn in early. You guys have fun, though.” She leans over and presses a kiss against my cheek. “You can update me in the morning.” With that, she gathers her plates and leaves the table. 

I stare after her until Penny pokes me. “Come on, Simon. No time to lose.” 

I return to Mummers after three hours of poking around the Wavering Wood. As I expected, we didn’t find anything, but Penny did make a few rubbing prints of the symbols to compare them to the drawings in the _Acciperenecron_. 

I hope that she can make some progress with them tomorrow. Right now, all I want is a shower and to go to bed. 

Baz still isn’t back when I open my door. I try to ignore the loudness of his empty bed and go shower. I let the hot water wash all the dirt and sweat from my hair. I don’t know where Baz is, and it is honestly bothering me. 

I knew he has been plotting something. Probably in Greek too while I’ve been too distracted with the magicless spells. 

Right now though I am too tired to care, I’ll think about Baz’s plots in the morning along with everything else that is happening. 

I trip over my backpack on my way to bed. 

Figures.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this post was completed at 4:19 AM on a Monday morning. My morning shift is at 10:00 AM and I'm working till 6:30. 
> 
> I make great life choices. 
> 
> -still sleep deprived.


	4. what robber what thief

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> simon gets a letter and misses the point completely. penny is a badass.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey void, 
> 
> look an update. finally. and it even has some plot stuff? kinda? maybe? (mostly it is just me making up spells and simon fangirling over his best friend) still
> 
> anyway sorry for the wait. I've started a new job and it is eating away at my free time. still I'll try to update soon. in the meantime enjoy!
> 
> or something 
> 
> yeah
> 
> thanks. 
> 
> chapter title comes from _Remember the Tinman_ by Tracy Chapman

**Simon**

A letter is sitting on my desk when I wake up this morning. At first, I think the letter is from Baz (I'm not sure why I think that Baz is leaving me letters, but that's my first thought).

 _Simon_ , The letter reads. Nope, not Baz. The handwriting is too messy, and Baz never addresses me by my first name. 

_You've been causing me a lot of trouble lately. I suppose that shouldn't be surprising. Even in my isolated state, I've heard tales of your exploits. You're supposed to save us after all if you are indeed the Greatest Mage._ Huh, that's interesting. I've never met anyone who doubted my status before not even the Old Families. No mage has ever been born with my level of power in our history. The amount of magic in me is a compelling argument in and of itself, and the remaining doubts were dispelled after the Humdrum took an interest in me. Now everyone is convinced. 

Well, expect Baz. Baz doesn't believe I am. He does like calling me Chosen One though, but it is just to take the piss. He doesn't actually believe it. I don't think.

"If you're the Greatest Mage Snow," he's told me on multiple occasions. "Then we're all doomed." 

When he first told me that it pissed me off. Now I'm beginning to see where he's coming from I can't control my magic on a good day, let alone a bad one. Plus we don't even know if my magic will have any effect on the Humdrum or if I'll even be able to access it once I'm around him (well we've been assuming it is a him, but no one really knows for sure. Is that sexist? Penny would know).

I suppose it doesn't matter if I can't beat him (her/it/whatever) I'll fight anyway. I'll fight until I can't anymore. There is no use dwelling on it. 

I go back to reading the letter.

 _Whether or not you are the Chosen One is of little importance to me, and it is not why I am writing to you. As I have said you have been creating several headaches for me lately, you and your sidekick have been going around messing with all of my hard work._ What are they talking about? Pen and I have barely made any progress. Or at least I didn't think we did. Maybe we did? I really need to show Pen this letter. Also, Penny isn't my sidekick. I wish people would stop referring to her that way. Penny is pretty much the only reason the day ever gets saved, and she deserves more credit than she gets (I don't need her to tell me that's sexist. I know it is). I'd be lost without her a million times over. 

Still to show Pen the letter I actually need to finish reading the letter (I get so distracted when reading, and it doesn't help that I've heard enough of these villain speeches by now that they bore me to tears). 

I go back to reading. 

_Knowing this, I'd like to make a deal._ A deal? Really? _But I need to go over that deal in person._ Sounds like a trap. 

_Though I suppose you are unlikely to show up to this meeting since I doubt you trust me, so I've decided to give you some incentive._

_I've taken the person who means the most to you._

Yup, definitely a trap. I guess it was too much to hope that they wouldn't take Agatha this year (even if we are on a break she's still my girlfriend). 

_I've written a locating spell at the bottom of this page use it, and it will lead you to me. If you don't show up within the next three weeks, then they die, and I'll try again with someone new until you do._

_Don't test me, though. I'm already running low on patience with this entire situation. Who knows maybe I'll kill them sooner._

They signed the letter with the promised locating spell. **Your place or mine?** It isn't a spell that I've ever heard of, but I'm hoping that Penny has. 

"It's a spell commonly used to find a neutral location when negotiating that works for both parties," Penny tells me after I've raced down the stairs to show her the letter. "For magic business deals and the like. Finds a place in between where neither one has the upper hand." 

I take a bite out of a scone. "Why would they use this spell then?" I ask through a mouthful. "Wouldn't they want to have the upper hand?" 

Penny has her thinking face on though her nose does wrinkle at my display. "The best I can figure is maybe they know they're at a disadvantage and are trying to even the odds?" She shakes her head. "I'm not sure why they'd think that. They currently have all the cards though I suppose taking a hostage can be seen as a desperate measure. The letter does have an air of impatience to it." She taps a fork against her chin. "Either that or they're moving around a lot, so they can't know exactly where they'll be, and they're relying on magic to pick an easy to get to location." 

Penny sets the fork down. "I don't think it is either of those reasons, though. I think this is an attempt to lower your guard."  


I blink at her. "But I'll already be on guard. It's obviously a trap, not a business meeting." 

"Obviously," Penny agrees. "However you'll be arriving at the same time which negates the possibility of either of you being able to prepare. The location picked is random and can change making staging an ambush impossible because you won't know where you'll end up." 

I guess I can see what she is getting at. "Okay," I say. "So what do I do?"

"Don't use the spell," Penny says. "They don't know about Agatha's beacon. Once she says the incantation we'll be able to find her and get the drop on her kidnapper since they won't see us coming. It's simple, really." 

"Of course," I say, but a part of me is wondering why Ags hasn't said it yet. When we rescued Agatha from the goblins last year, she ranted at us for a good two weeks afterward. She kept saying how fed up she was with constantly getting kidnapped (though I wouldn't say constantly). Maybe once a semester since we started dating (is that constantly?). Penny got tired of being yelled at and spent the rest of the year working on a way for us to find Agatha quicker. 

Penny's research paid off, and she created **Damsel in Distress**. Agatha was a bit put out by the spell (rightly so) Penny was a little too (she hates the troupe finds it contrived and based in damaging gender roles), but mostly she was excited that she was able to create a spell. Pen is a badass (seriously I don't know why people think she's my sidekick when I'm clearly hers). 

"Ready Agatha?" Penny had asked at the end of term. We decided to test the spell out in the Wavering Wood where we knew we'd be alone.

Agatha had seemed vaguely annoyed and disinterested but nodded. "Sure." 

"Thanks for all your hard work, Penny," Penny muttered. "I really appreciate your friendship and intellect." 

Agatha rolled her eyes. 

Penny held out her ring hand in front of her. " **Damsel in Distress** ," she cast, and her ring glowed brightly with magic. "Notice anything different?" she asked when the glow faded. 

"My mouth tastes like sage," Agatha answered. "Otherwise, no." 

"Try the incantation," Penny commanded. 

Agatha sighed. "My knight in shining armor," she said. 

Nothing happened. 

"You have to say a name," Penny reminded her.

"Oh," Agatha said. "Right." She cleared her throat before looking at me. " **Simon, my knight in shining armor**." 

The air between us simmered until I could see a faint metallic line running from me to Agatha. I reached out to touch it, and my hand buzzed with heat. I noticed that Agatha did the same thing. 

"Are you guys seeing anything?" Penny asked. 

"There's a silver line running between us," I told Penny. 

"Interesting," Penny said then looked at Agatha. "Do you see it too?" 

Agatha nodded. "Yes." 

Penny hummed, and her eyes were bright. She waved a hand at me. "Go ahead, Simon." 

I reached out my hand, and Agatha took it. " **You're safe now** ," I told her. 

The line vanished. Agatha took her hand back. 

"It's gone," I informed Penny. 

"Brillant," Penny said then waved at Agatha eagerly. "Try again, Ags. Use my name this time." 

" **Penny, my knight in shining armor** ," Agatha said. 

"I see the line!" Penny exclaimed. "Merlin I'm brilliant!" 

"Yeah," I said grinning. "You are." 

Penny smiled back at me before Agatha cleared her throat again. "Hey," she said when she had our attention then pointed at the line I could no longer see. 

"Ah," Penny said. "Right sorry." She reached over and took Agatha's hand. " **You're safe now**." 

Agatha tucked both her hands into her skirt pockets. "Well," she said. "Now that that's settled. I am going to go to dinner." She started to turn away before turning back and smiling at Penny. "Thanks, Penny." 

Penny beamed. "You're welcome!"

Like I said, Penny is a badass. I don't know anyone else who could've come up with a spell like that with that kind of range (while I was in homes this summer Penny and Agatha tested it out. It even worked when Agatha was in the Caribbean). I doubt even Baz could manage it and he's the top of the class.

I'm smiling at Penny now, and she's giving me a bemused look. "What Simon?" she asks. "Do I have something on my face?" 

"No," I say. "I'm just admiring how brilliant my best friend is." 

Penny smiles back and pats my shoulder. "And don't you forget it." 

I reach my hand up and cover hers. "Seriously I don't know what I'd do without you." 

"Crash and burn?" Penny suggests and squeezes my hand. "We'll get her back Si. Don't worry." 

"I know," I say because I do know. I'm not worried. 

"Get who back?" A familiar voice asks. 

Both Penny and I whip our heads around. 

"Agatha?" We both say at the exact same time in the exact same tone.

Agatha's shaking her head as she sits across from us. "Honestly you guys are like those creepy twins from The Shining." She pours some cream into her tea.

"What are you doing here?" I blurt out. 

Agatha looks confused now, and even a bit hurt. "Am I not wanted here anymore?" she asks. "I didn't think just because we're--" 

"--No," I cut off her off. "Of course not." 

Agatha takes a sip of her tea. "Then why are you looking at me like that?" 

In answer, Penny passes her the letter. 

"Huh," Agatha says after reading it.

"Yeah," Penny and I agree. 

I look over at Baz's table. Dev and Niall are still sitting alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this post was completed at 2:00 on a Tuesday morning. My opening shift is at 8:00 AM and I'm working till 4:00.
> 
> ....why did I ever think working two jobs would be a good idea? 
> 
> -still sleep deprived.


	5. locks on the door

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> baz comes to terms with his new damsel in distress situation by snarking at his kidnapper.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey void, 
> 
> have a super short update. next one will hopefully be longer. thanks for your patience with this story I know it is taking a while. 
> 
> see ya in the next update. 
> 
> enjoy!
> 
> chapter title comes from _Remember the Tinman_ by Tracy Chapman

**Baz**

When I wake up, I'm not in my room. In fact, I'm nowhere I recognize. Whenever I am, it's cold, and the walls are bleeding condensation. 

I'm shivering when I hear a voice, "Hello, Tyrannus." It's a man's voice, and I turn my head in its direction. "Or do you prefer Baz?" the voice asks, but I can't make out the face. Someone is standing in front of me, but where his body should be, there is only an empty white outline. Like someone had taken him into photoshop and cut him out of the picture. It must be a spell, but not one that I've encountered before. 

"Baz is fine," I say, pushing back my uneasiness at answering something with no discernible features. I sit up. 

"Baz then," the man says, walking closer to me. 

I lean back a little then immediately stop when I realize what I'm doing. _Don't show weakness_. "Who are you?" I ask schooling my expression into neutrality. If ever I needed a mask, it's now, and I don't have his fancy spell. 

Spell. 

My wand. 

I pat my sleeve. 

I'm still wearing my pajamas, but my wand isn't in my sleeve. I swallow hard. I'm never without my wand, and I feel naked without it. I try to keep the panic off my face. _Don't show weakness_.

"Your wand is back at Watford," the man says. He must have rightly assumed I've been searching for it. 

"And where are we?" I ask. 

I can't see his expression, but somehow I know that he is smirking at me. "Why would I tell you that?" 

Why indeed. 

"So you've taken me, hostage, then," I note keeping my voice bored. "Which means you probably aren't going to answer my earlier question regarding your identity and explains why you felt the need to employ whatever spell you're currently using. You don't want me to know who you are." 

Which hopefully means he does not intend to kill me. He wouldn't care about keeping himself anonymous if he was. 

"Correct," my kidnapper says.

"What spell are you using?" I ask. 

"I suppose there is no harm in telling you," he says. "Have you ever seen the show _Black Mirror_?"

I nod slowly, then pause. "You're using a spell that acts like when someone blocks someone else in the show," I realize. 

"Correct," he says. "You catch on fast." 

"I try," I say.

"But I'm not merely using it," the man continues. "I created it." 

He must be powerful then — just my luck. 

"I'm surprised it is you," he muses. 

I frown at the non sequitur. "What?" I ask then immediately regret asking. I can't let him see how wrong-footed I am I need to stay in control of this situation. 

"I thought it would be the blonde girl," the man says. "Aren't you supposed to be enemies?" 

"What the hell are you talking about?" I demand. 

The outline shrugs. "I cast **Steal Their Heart**." 

I raise an eyebrow. "Still not following." 

"I cast **Steal Their Heart** , and I got you," the man says. "Which means that you're his heart." 

"I'm whose heart?" 

"Tsk tsk Baz," the man deprecates me. "I thought you caught on fast." When I still don't answer he sighs then says, "Simon Snow. The chosen one." 

I laugh. "You're joking." 

"I'm not." 

"Then you cast it wrong." 

"I didn't." 

"You're lying clearly." 

"I'm not." 

"You've kidnapped me," I point out sardonically. "That's hardly a good indication of your character." 

"Why would I lie about this?" 

"I don't know," I admit. "To throw me off somehow." 

"Yes, that's clearly working," he says dryly.

I roll my eyes. "You can't honestly expect me to believe that I'm Snow's heart? Don't be ridiculous." I sound more bitter than I should. 

My kidnapper makes a thoughtful sound. "But you want to be," he observes. 

Shit.  _Don't show weakness_

"You're delusional," I say. 

"Am I?" 

"Obviously," I say. "I'm not Snow's heart, and I don't care to be." 

"Believe what you want," he says. "It doesn't matter to me. Though for your sake, I hope you are." 

"I told you I'm not." 

"Well, then I suppose I'll have to kill you." With that, he leaves the room. 

I wait for a few minutes then I get up to take in my surroundings. 

The room is small and wet. Maybe we're underground? Or somewhere prone to rain? I can't walk more than five steps from the bed on any side before running into an invisible wall — some barrier spell. Barrier spells always have a time limit. The longer ones can last up to a week. I can't stay awake long enough to keep watch. I need to keep my strength and wits about me, and I can't do that sleep-deprived. So I'll have to find a way to wake myself up when my kidnapper returns to recast the barrier if I go that route. 

There is a tiny bathroom within my walking radius, but there aren't any windows or mirrors inside — nothing I could fashion into a weapon. Maybe I could loosen the piping enough to break off a part of it, but a weapon is pointless if my kidnapper isn't in hitting range. I could always throw it, but there's a chance I'll miss. 

If I had my wand, I could think of twenty ways off the top of my head to escape. I don't have my wand, though and I'm not Snow I can't do wandless magic. 

Crowley, how am I going to get out of this? Snow isn't coming for me no matter what my kidnapper is claiming. Snow and I are enemies he doesn't give a shit about my wellbeing. 

He doesn't give a shit about me.

I sit back down on the bed and put my head in my hands. For a moment, just a moment, I imagine it. I imagine Snow walking through that door and running over to me. 

 _"Baz, are you okay?" he'd ask looking fanatic._  
   
_"I'm fine, Snow," I'd answer._ (even in my fantasies I can't show weakness). 

_"I'm so relieved." He'd smile at me. "I've been looking for you."_

_"I thought you hated me," I'd say._

_He'd reach for my face then. He'd run his thumb over my lips. "I could never hate my heart," he'd tell me leaning in._

And then he'd...

... he'd...

Fuck. I don't know.

Kiss me? Say that I'm all he ever thinks about? Tell me he loves me? 

Crowley, I'm pathetic. 

Dwelling on fantasies isn't going to get me out of here. I need to do that. Simon Snow won't save me. I have to save myself. 

I always do....

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this post was completed at 4:00 on a Wednesday morning. I'm working at noon tomorrow. 
> 
> I haven't had a day off in a week.
> 
> so tired. must write. 
> 
> -still sleep deprived.


	6. nothing can fill

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> simon is still missing the point. penny is getting closer to it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey void, 
> 
> whoa, another update so soon after the last? who am I, right? 
> 
> this, of course, is the result of me finally figuring out where I am going with this (you know actually getting some plotting done), and how it will end so from now on updates will be longer and more consistent. 
> 
> or at least that's what I am hoping for. 
> 
> enjoy!
> 
> ps. am I the only one who enjoys making up spells? because I've been having a great time with it. 
> 
> chapter title comes from _Remember the Tinman_ by Tracy Chapman

**Simon**

Penny accosts me on my way to Mummers. 

"Pen," I pled. "I just had a seven-page Magic Words test have mercy." 

Penny crosses her arms unimpressed with my display. "Simon come on." 

"Fine," I grumble because I know she's right. "Come on up." 

Penny follows me. She's been staying over the past couple of nights since Baz is still MIA. I love Pen I do, but all she's been wanting to do is figure this out, and I don't see the point. Agatha is fine. We've been keeping tabs for the past week, and so far she's been arriving at breakfast every morning like clockwork. Nothing's changed. 

As the week wore on the more convinced that the letter was a scheme of Baz's I became. Using it as a way to distract me by keeping me paranoid about Agatha while he was off doing something nefarious. Joke's on him though because I'm still looking for him. When Pen isn't around, which is rare, I admit, I wander the grounds in search of clues about his whereabouts. I've even attempted to get the information out of Dev and Niall, but they both told me to fuck off. 

I won't rest, though. I know Baz is up to something and no menacing letter is going to keep me from finding him. 

"Okay," Penny says once I shut the door behind us. She casts **See What I Mean** and makes our _what we know_ and _what we don't know_ columns. "We know that Agatha is still here and that she's been here every morning." 

"Right," I say as the note appears in the air. 

"We also know that according to the letter you have three weeks to respond, and we are now down to two." 

I nod. 

"Which means either this was a joke." 

I snort. "Doubt that." 

"Their attempt failed." 

"What attempt?" I say. "Agatha hasn't reported anything amiss, and we haven't found any threat to her either." 

Penny nods. "Or they've taken someone else." 

Now I'm confused. "Who? The Mage?"  
   
"No, I don't think so," Penny says. "The Mage was in his office yesterday." 

I had been lounging on my bed, but now I sit up straighter. "What?" 

"I saw the lights on in his office, and when I went up to talk to him, he was already on his way out." 

"Penny, why didn't you tell me?" I exclaim. "We could really use his take on this situation!"

Penny shrugs. "He's gone, Si. There was no point in me telling you. He can't be any help." 

My shoulder's slump. I know I should be used to this behavior by now, but I can't believe The Mage was here at Watford and he didn't bother to check in with me when he knows I've been trying to get a message to him for weeks. Why would he do that? He knows I need his help. 

"It looks like whatever he was here for was time-sensitive," Penny says gently. "He was in a hurry." 

"He always is," I mutter bitterness leaking into my voice. 

"Anyway this isn't about The Mage," Penny says changing the subject. "Simon how long has Baz been missing?" 

I scratch my head. "I dunno? Over a week? I noticed him gone from our room last Tuesday and it is Wednesday now. So eight days." 

"Right," Penny says as a new line appears in the know column. She's giving me an imploring look. 

I frown. "Where are you going with this?" 

Penny sighs and sits down on Baz's bed. She doesn't break eye contact with me until it finally clicks. 

I laugh. "You think they took Baz?" 

Penny nods. 

"But it's Baz," I say. "Baz isn't the most important person to me. It doesn't make sense that they took him." 

"I mean you talk about him every day," Penny points out. 

"Because he's plotting! Not because I love him!" 

Penny raises her eyebrows at me. "I didn't say, love, Simon." 

"Oh." I blush. "I know." 

Penny is giving me an interested stare now. Like I'm a puzzle she's trying to solve. I'm not sure why she has that expression. I'm an open book. She told me so herself. Finally, she shakes her head. "Maybe they took Baz because he's your roommate?" she offers. 

"Everyone knows we hate each other. Everyone knows we are on opposite sides of a brewing war." The thought is turning my stomach a bit, so I push it aside. 

"Maybe this person didn't do their research?" 

"Pen what you're suggesting is ridiculous beside the fact that we're enemies so it wouldn't make sense to take him, he's Baz. He'd outsmart his kidnappers easily." 

Penny looks like she's having a major realization. 

"I've been doing some thinking," I say. I wasn't going to mention it before I got some proof, but I can't let Penny keep going with this theory. I need her focused. Plus we work better together, or at least I do. "Baz is distracting me, Penny. He sent the letter to make me paranoid about Agatha so I'd be too absorbed to track him down and figure out his plot. I imagine he's plotting something big since he's not been here in over a week." 

That makes my blood freeze. What if the war is already starting? What if our bubble is about to burst? Am I going to have to fight Baz soon? 

Kill him even? 

I shove the thought from my head and refocus. 

Penny is still giving me that curious look I associate with her working on a project. I wish she'd stop. 

"I don't know Si," Penny says. "Baz has been missing a week, and the kidnapper said we'd have three. He went missing the morning before you got the letter. The letter isn't in his handwriting, and there are easier ways to distract you. It fits too well for it not to be Baz." 

"Except that I don't care about Baz," I say. "He isn't the person who means the most to me. That would be Agatha or you or The Mage. Not Baz who hates me." 

Penny tilts her head at me. "Huh," she says. "I'm going to go to bed now. I'll leave you to think this over." 

"Wait, you're leaving?" I ask. "I thought you wanted to avoid your room because of the pixie dust. You claimed you're developing an allergy." 

Penny sighs. She's been sighing a lot tonight. "Yeah well if you're theory is right Baz could be back at any moment. Best not stick around." She waves a hand, and the words vanish. "Goodnight, Simon." 

"Night Pen," I say. 

She starts to close the door before she pauses. "Simon, um, listen to your heart." 

I blink at her. "What?" 

She shrugs and shuts the door. 

I'm too exhausted by our conversation to decode that so I push it aside. I'll deal with Penny and her cryptic statements at a later date.  


I really should get ready for bed myself. I have school tomorrow, but I'm too keyed up to sleep. I feel like there is a buzzing under my skin. An empty feeling in my chest that only finding Baz can fill. 

I am more determined than ever to track him down. To prove Penny wrong. To prove my theory right, and maybe then try to talk him out of whatever he's doing. Maybe I can convince him to put off our fight for one more year. 

I'm not sure how I'm going to manage that. The first step is actually finding Baz though, so I start with that. 

My sweeps of the grounds are proving fruitless. Baz isn't at Watford. He is probably at an Old Family war meeting. It twists my gut. How dare he? We were supposed to have another year. I'm not ready to fight yet. 

I'm not ready to fight him. 

I kick at Baz's bed since the actual target of my displeasure isn't here. 

He isn't here so his stuff will have to do. I kick his dresser, and a book falls from where it had been perched on the edge. 

I pick it up, turning it over. It's old, but not super old like some of the tomes in the library are. It looks like a personal book too. It's dogged eared, and post-it notes are sticking out of it in Baz's handwriting. 

Baz's super neat handwriting that looks nothing like the letter I got, not even at its messiness. 

Maybe he had someone else write the letter.

Anyway, curiosity piqued now and not caring about his boundaries if he is going to violate our unspoken agreement to finish Watford first I open the book. I thought we were on the same page in at least this aspect I thought we had an understanding. 

I thought school was more important, to both of us to risk over a war that is barely ours. 

Guess I was wrong. 

I flip through the book. It was published in 92' which explains the yellowing pages, but relatively modern font. 

_Transformative Love Songs: How the Billboard Hot 100 can be applied to magic_

This isn't a book I'd think Baz would have. It seems so innocent, but I guess popular songs, lasting popular songs, can be some of the strongest spells we have. Still, I always thought Baz would keep dark magic spellbooks dusty with age and heavy with gravitas. 

Not a book about the magical applications of _Come On Eileen_ (apparently a few spells originate from those lyrics, and I thought the only use for that song was its danceability). 

But I must admit I am getting a kick out of reading it especially Baz's notes. Not only has he added post-it notes he's writen in the margins and underlined the critical bits in a passage. I can easily picture him hunched over his desk, scribbling away. Always the student. 

I'm halfway through the book when I find it. It only jumps out to me because of Penny's parting words. 

_Listen to Your Heart: fifth-ranked spell. Recently created from the song of the same name by the pop singer Roxette circa 1988._

_The caster will be able to hear the thoughts of their intended._  

Hey, that's exactly what I need! I've always wanted to be able to read Baz's mind. The bastard is more cryptic than Penny is and far more mysterious. I always want to know what he's thinking. 

And it is more important than ever that I do if I want to avoid fighting him. I throw the book on Baz's bed and grab my wand. 

Intended target. I just have to think of Baz. Easily done since he is always in the back my mind. I call up his face. The furrow between his eyebrows, the cool grey of his eyes, the widow's peak. The way he sometimes smiles when he's reading. 

I hear his voice. Angry, disgusted, bored, scornful. Soft that one time I walked into a conversation he was having with Niall. 

His violin music, the way that he guilds the bow over the strings. The calm look on his face. The most at peace I've ever seen him. 

The sound of his breathing when I'm falling asleep. 

I'm already feeling my magic moving when I hold out my wand. It's just under the surface of my skin. I know this spell will work. 

I take a deep breath, hold the essence of Baz in my mind, and cast. 

**Listen to Your Heart**

The air around me glows for a moment, and I feel a sharp tug in my chest. I put my hand over it. 

My mind expands (there isn't any other way to describe it) until it comes into contact with something else. 

Someone else. 

I know who it is. 

 _Baz?_ I send hesitantly. Then realize how stupid that is. He can't hear me. The spell is for me to read his thoughts; it isn't a two-way connection. I don't know why it feels like it is, but it isn't. 

There's a long pause. Did I cast the spell wrong? No, there is another awareness in my head, and I know that it's Baz. Is he just not thinking? No that can't be right.

Then I hear a voice in my head I know better than my own.  
   
_Snow?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this post was completed at 3:23 on a Thursday morning. I'm working from 12:30 to 6:30 tomorrow with a hour's drive there and back.
> 
> but yolo, you know? 
> 
> I'll be fineeeeee
> 
> -still sleep deprived.


	7. a gate and a fence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> simon and baz talk, but still manage to not talk about anything at all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey void, 
> 
> sorry about the lack of updates. I've been super sick with bronchitis this week (take it from me friends. don't ever work two jobs without a day off. it kills). but there should only be a couple of chapters left after this if things go according to my plan so you have that to look forward to. 
> 
> anyway here's simon and baz avoiding the truth for an entire chapter. 
> 
> enjoy!
> 
> chapter title comes from _Remember the Tinman_ by Tracy Chapman

**Baz**

_Baz?_

At first, I think I'm losing it that the isolation and dampness of my current situation has actually succeeded in driving me crazy. I mean honestly, it was only a matter of time. It isn't like I've had anyone to talk to lately. My kidnapper won't say two words to me merely pushes some food and water into my prison then leaves. 

Initially, I was worried because while it was a good thing that he didn't think to leave me blood due to me not wanting to be outed as a vampire, it didn't make the whole needing blood aspect of my survival go away. Thankfully for me, my prison is disgusting and therefore crawling with rats. I've been flushing their corpses to cover my tracks (the whole thing is horrifying honestly, but it is better than being dead or discovered). 

So when I heard that familiar voice in my head, I accepted the fact that I was going mad. I didn't even question it. It would make perfect sense, after all, that my first insane act would be to hallucinate Simon Snow's voice saying my name. 

Not growling it either, saying it hopefully, desperately. Like he was waiting with bated breath for my response. Obviously, it was a clear sign of my departure from sanity. 

So since I was already insane, I decided I might as well embrace it. I answered back. _Snow?_

 _It worked!_ Was the immediate exuberant response. 

I tilted my head. _What worked?_

_The spell! How can you hear me, anyhow? The spell was only supposed to go one way. Nevermind it isn't important. Where are you?_

It was at that moment, I understood. I wasn't going crazy. I was just in another one of Snow's fuck-ups. It would be just like Snow to somehow meld our minds together. 

Which brings us to now.

 _What did you do?_ I demand. 

Snow ignores my question. _I can't believe you've betrayed me like this. I mean I knew you'd do it eventually, but I thought we'd have more time. We were going to finish Watford first._

 _Snow what the actual hell on you on about?_ He is making even less sense than usual.

 _Don't try to fool me Baz._ Snow keeps going. _I know that you're in some sort of Old Families war meeting plotting my downfall. Don't even try to deny it._

I sigh and cast a long-suffering look at the ceiling (even if Snow can't see me, maybe he can feel my exasperation). _I'm not in a bloody war meeting._

Snow snorts. I don't know how he manages to convey that mentally, but here we are. _Then where are you?_

_None of your business._ He can't know where I am. (I know this is a chance for me to get out of here, but it is far too embarrassing). Snow is my enemy anyway it isn't like it would do any good. 

He isn't going to save me.

_Right, you won't tell me because of your stupid war._

_Our stupid war._ I correct him. I can't help it. _Or have you forgotten that your mage started it?_

 _The Mage didn't start it_ — Snow objects, true to form. _Your lot did when they didn't get behind his reforms._

_When they didn't get behind his hostile takeover, you mean._

Snow huffs. 

 

**Simon**

Honestly, I'm not even sure why I wanted to find him now. He is just as unbearable and unlikely to tell me shit as ever. 

_Not that it has anything to do with whatever the hell you've done._ Baz says or thinks (I'm not sure how this works honestly. The spell wasn't clear, and now I've lost the book. I think I threw it somewhere in my excitement). 

_I cast a spell._ I say.

 _Obviously._ I don't even need to see Baz to know that he is rolling his eyes at me. _What spell did you cast?_

For some reason I'm embarrassed. I'm not sure why. I know I can't tell him the truth, though. He could use the spell against me or find a way to break our connection, and I can't have that. He still hasn't told me where he is. 

Speaking of. _Where are you?_ I ask him again.

 _I'm not telling you. What spell did you cast?_

_Well I'm not telling you._ I bite back. 

Baz sighs. A long tired breath of air I somehow hear in my head. _Lovely. Then there's no point in talking further, is there? If neither of us is going to tell the other anything useful._

_It isn't like we have a choice._ I point out. _You're in my head._

 _I'm sure I can find some way to break the connection._ Baz says. _If I put my mind to it._

_Don't!_ I say instinctively. 

I feel Baz's surprise (somehow that is another thing we're connected by). Maybe if the emotion is strong enough, I can feel it? Or perhaps if I'm the cause of it? (whatever it doesn't matter). 

_I just mean._ If this were a verbal conversation, I'd be stuttering by now. Thankfully stutters can't be conveyed mentally. _The whole reason I did this is to convince you to come back to Watford. I don't care where you are. Or well I do, but that isn't as important as you coming back._

 

**Baz**

I know that Snow wants me back at Watford because he's convinced I'm plotting against him. That the war has started and he isn't ready for it (honestly I'm not ready either. I don't think I'll ever be. I don't want to fight him). 

But hearing those words from him, feeling his desire to have me back, brings something warm in my chest. I firmly ignore it. 

_I don't care._ I send. _And a magical mental connection is not going to change that._

(I do care though. I care so bloody much). 

_Baz._ Snow sends. _Come on. I know we never said it outright, but I thought we were in agreement. I thought that school meant more to you than this._

It is almost painful to hear that, hearing Snow arguing for me to stay. He's right, of course. We are in agreement on this. I didn't want the war to start until after we had finished school. I care about my education too much to see it cut off due to a war that is barely mine (and that is beside the other obvious factor that I'm in love with the Chosen One, and don't want to kill him, but I digress). 

Snow has given me an excuse with this, though. So I'm going to take it. Better that he thinks I'm in a war meeting than knowing the truth of the matter. That I'm currently being held hostage by a mad man, who thinks I'm Snow's heart, better he believes anything but that. I've been giving the problem some thought, and I think that somehow I managed to muck up the spell. Maybe my faulty love for Snow screwed with it (or perhaps more likely my kidnapper is just lying to me). 

Whatever the case. I'm not Snow's heart. 

And he can't ever know where I am. 

_Well, you were wrong._ I send trying to keep my mental voice as bored as possible. _I don't care. About school, about the promise you made with yourself, none of it. There are more important things now. Grow the fuck up._

A wave of hurt hits me. Stronger than I thought it would be. It takes me aback. 

_I think you're making a mistake._

_Since when have I ever cared about your opinion, Snow?_

I don't get a reply. There's silence from the other end of the connection. I can still feel Snow in my mind, though. 

I'd rather deny it, but he calms me. This entire time I had been trying to convince myself that I was fine. That I'd figure this out, that I would escape and return to Watford and everything would be okay. 

But honestly? As the week wore on, I was beginning to get discouraged (forced isolation has a way of doing that to you, not to mention the death threats). 

I'm always cold and wet, and I just want to go home. I just want something familiar. 

Snow is familiar and feeling him in my head is comforting. 

For the first time all week. I finally get some sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this post was completed at 5:01 on a Tuesday morning. this may also be a contributing factor to my current state of sickness. 
> 
> -still sleep deprived.


	8. tear down the walls

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> baz and simon actually talk. baz is a stubborn twat. simon is a persistent nightmare.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey void, 
> 
> here's a short little update for ya. pretty quick after the last one. shouldn't be too long now. also this is where the angst part of the angst tag comes in. 
> 
> you've been warned.
> 
> enjoy!
> 
> chapter title comes from _Remember the Tinman_ by Tracy Chapman

**Simon**

I don’t say anything to Baz for a full 24 hours (well 15 hours, but who’s counting). I was determined to say nothing to him, even if I could feel his presence in my head. In fact, I also looked, briefly, for a way to break the connection. I was unsuccessful in my attempts. 

Baz also didn’t say anything. I think he was just as determined as I was to ignore him. He has always been better at ignoring me though, far better than I’ve been at ignoring him (Baz is always such a loud presence even if he isn’t literally in my head). So at the 15-hour mark, I break. 

_Are you seriously not coming back?_ I ask. I get nothing in reply.

 _You missed our midterm._ I tell him while I walk to lunch. _You know the essential Greek one you’ve been claiming your studying for, that was today._ Again no answer. No attempt to justify anything. 

_Niall and Dev are looking worried._ I say, staring at the two boys at dinner. _Or they are doing a really good job of acting like they are. Have you not let them into your scheme this time?_ Nothing but radio silence. 

_Baz._ I persist. _You can’t ignore me forever. I’m in your head._

I’m opening our window when I finally get a reply. _Watch me._

Of course, the first thing he sends me after almost 26 hours of silence is something rude and contradictory (Baz’s two states of being). 

_I’m just going to keep pestering you until I get an answer, and you know how persistent I can be._ I warn.

A sigh then. _Fine._

_Are you going to answer me now?_

_No._

Suppose I should give up on that then. Maybe if I keep talking to him, he will eventually let something slip. I change tactics. _What are you doing right now?_

_Why does that matter?_

_I don’t know. I’m just making conversation._

_You never just make conversation._

I climb into my bed. _I make conversation. We talk._

 _No, we don’t, we argue._ Baz argues. _You growl at me. I publicly humiliate you. You glare at me from across your plate of roast beef. I sneer at you over my cup of tea. You try to pick a fight with me. I say something witty and emotionally devastating. That’s our modus operandi._

 _I think you’re overestimating your abilities._ I’m not sure why this is making me smile. Baz is being shitty and using big words he knows I don’t understand (maybe I’ve missed that. It’s familiar. Or maybe I’m just happy he isn’t ignoring me anymore). 

_No, I’m very witty._ Baz says. _If anything, I underestimate my abilities._

 _Not possible, you’re the most arrogant twat I know._ I say. _You don’t have a humble bone in your body._

_Hard to when you’re perfect._

_You’re not perfect._ I disagree. _Being top of the class and great at football doesn’t make you perfect. Even if your hair is perfect, you’re not._

A long pause. _You think my hair is perfect?_

I flush. He’s making that sound weirder than I intended. _Well yes. You spend bloody ages on it. Anything can be perfect when you put enough effort into it._

 _Right._ Baz says slowly then changes the subject. _Did I really miss the Greek midterm?_

 _Yeah._ I say. _You’re normally better at keeping track of these things._

 _I’ve been distracted._ Baz defends. 

_Distracted plotting with the Old Families?_ I suggest.

_No._

_Then what’re you doing?_

_How many times do I have to tell you that I’m not telling you?_

_I told you I’m persistent._ I remind him. 

_Trust me, I know._ Baz sounds wary, and like he is rolling his eyes at me. 

_Then you should know it is pointless to avoid answering._ I point out. 

_And you should know that I am just as stubborn as you._ Baz returns. 

I do know that. _Immovable wall and unstoppable force._ I muse. 

_You’re the force._ Baz says, not missing a beat. _Destructive nightmare of a mage that you are._

 _Then you’re the wall._ I bite back. _Cold, remote, unfeeling._

 _Yup, that’s me. Completely emotionless._ Somehow he sounds bitter. 

And somehow it is causing a pain in my chest. _Why’d you break our promise?_ I ask abruptly. 

_We didn’t promise shit, Snow._

_You know that isn’t true._ It was unspoken, but we both agreed. 

He’s quiet for so long; I think he isn’t going to answer me. _I didn’t._

__

_What?_

__

_I didn’t break our promise._

__

_You’re not here._ I say, staring at his empty bed. _And you told me to grow the fuck up._

__

__

_I know._ Baz says. 

_That means you broke our promise._ It hurts. I don’t know why, but it does. I’m trying to pretend it doesn’t, but I think he knows — bloody magical mind connection. 

But that connection goes both ways. I can tell he’s hurting too, but I’m even less sure on why. _Baz I know you don’t want this._

__

__

_Don’t tell me what I want._ Is his knee jerk response, then softer, quieter. _I didn’t break it._

__

__

_Then where the hell are you?_ I demand, and something is wet in my eyes. I wipe at them. I always cry when Baz pisses me off. I hate that he gets to me. _Where are you, Baz?_

He’s quiet again. _You should go to bed._

_I am in bed._

__

__

_You should sleep. If my math is correct, you have a Chemistry midterm tomorrow._

Fuck I forgot about that. Shit. 

_Fine._ I say. _But we’re not done talking about this._

_Joy._ Baz drawls. 

I turn off the bedside light. If I squint and focus on our connection, I can almost imagine he’s laying in his bed next to me. 

_Goodnight Snow._ Baz says 

There’s something warm in my chest. _Goodnight Baz._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this post was completed at 2:30 on a Friday morning. I'm working at 12:30 tomorrow with a forty-minute drive ahead of me. 
> 
> but I found a coupon for a free McDonald's ice coffee so you could say I'm living the dream. 
> 
> -still sleep deprived.


	9. the smile from your face

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> simon has a dream. baz has a plan. both of them think that the other person thanking them is weird but like not as weird as everything else that is currently happening.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey void, 
> 
> have the update I wrote when I was supposed to be working and then spent more time editing, because writing things on smartphone is a terrible idea. but inspiration waits for no one so yeah. 
> 
> anyway next update we'll be soon since as doctor strange said _we're in the endgame now._
> 
> enjoy!
> 
> chapter title comes from _Remember the Tinman_ by Tracy Chapman

**Simon**

I'm eating scones, and the Mage is next to me. For once his presence isn't making me on edge. 

He's talking to me, asking me how I am, and giving me advice about classes. The sun is warm on my face, the scones never get cold, and the Mage is smiling at me. 

I've never been happier. 

"You don't have to fight the war, Simon," the Mage says after several beats of comfortable silence. 

I swallow. "What?"

"I've been talking with the Old Families," he continues. "We've reached an agreement. There will be no war." 

I feel a weight lift. "Really?" I ask. "I don't have to fight Baz?" 

"You don't have to fight anyone, Simon," the Mage reassures me. 

"What about the Humdrum?" 

"Taken care of," the Mage says. "Killed it myself." 

I'm staring at him in awe. "How?"

The Mage pats the sword at his side, and I smile. "Right, silly question."

There is calm between us now that I've never experienced. I don't feel the pressure I usually do around him. I feel looked after, and-- 

\-- well, loved. 

"I really don't have to fight Baz?" I ask again because this feels like the most important, and the most unbelievable thing. 

The Mage shakes his head. "He can tell you himself," he says. "He's waiting for you in your room." 

"He's back!" I exclaim, jumping to my feet. "Really?" 

The Mage laughs. I've never heard him laugh before. "Yes, he arrived this morning." 

I'm grinning. I can't stop grinning. 

"He's part of the reason we called off the war," the Mage continues. "You inspired his very passionate case against it."

"Me?" 

"Yes," the Mage says. "He said that you convinced him to come back to Watford, and since he couldn't do that with the war on, he had to stop it." 

A massive wave of relief washes over me. It worked. I convinced Baz. I don't have to fight Baz. 

I don't have to kill him. 

I need to talk to him. I need to hear the words from his mouth. 

I just--

\---I just need to see him. 

I turn to start running to Mummers when the Mage calls after me. "Oh," he says, "and Simon?" 

"Yes?" I ask, turning back around.

His eyes are warm as he smiles at me. "I'm proud of you, Son." 

I smile back at him. "Thank you." Then I'm practically flying to Mummers. I feel on top of the world. Like I can do anything. Be anything. 

Maybe I am flying?

I'm at our front door in no time then I'm pushing it open, Baz's name on the tip of my tongue, but when I open the door, the world shifts. 

I'm on a bed suddenly, and I feel cold. The walls are bleeding condensation. This isn't our room. I'm not sure where I am right now. But I don't like it. 

I feel trapped. 

I feel...scared. 

And lonely. 

I look down at the red pajamas I'm wearing. I tug at the fabric nervously before I stand up and walk towards the door, but before I reach it, something stops me. 

There's an invisible wall in front of me, and I bang my fist against it, once, twice, before sliding down until I'm sitting with my back to it and my head titled upwards. 

A drop of water falls on my face, but I don't wipe it away. I leave it there. 

_I'm so alone._

_Please, can someone save me?_

I wake up crying. That felt so real. My heart is racing, and without thinking, I turn my head to look for Baz. But his bed is empty. 

He still isn't here. 

For some reason that makes me sob harder, and I curl into myself. My edges are beginning to blur. _He's not here. No one is you're all alone just like in the dream--_

Then I hear a voice. _Snow? Simon? What's wrong?_

Baz's voice. Right. Baz is here. Kinda.

I take in a long shaky breath, trying to get the red haze out of my vision. 

_Don't go off. It was just a nightmare. Don't go off, you're fine._ Baz says into my head, his voice soothing. _You're safe, Simon. It's okay._

Somehow it works. My breathing slows, and I no longer feel like I'm burning. 

_All good?_ Baz asks. 

_Yeah._ I say. _Thank you._

_Don't thank me, you nightmare._ Baz says. _It's weird for us to be thanking each other._

_Baz, I think your voice is in my head is weirder._

_Okay fair._ Baz says. _Can you go back to sleep now? I'm tired._

_Did I wake you?_

_No._ Baz says. _But I can't very well go to sleep with you being distressed in my head._

_Right._ I say, sheepishly. _Sorry._

_It's fine._ Baz assures. _Not your fault. What were you dreaming about anyway?_

_I don't remember._ I lie. I don't want to tell him, not just about the nightmare either, but about what came before it too. If I think about that part, I'll probably start sobbing again. 

Baz sighs. _Snow if you don't want to talk about it, you can just say so, you don't have to lie._

_You called me Simon before._

_That's what you're focusing on?_

_Yes._

_Well, I didn't._ He says. 

_Now, who's lying?_

Baz sighs again. _Go to back to sleep Snow._

I do.

 

 

**Simon**

_There was an Elocution evaluation today._ I tell Baz. Over the past week, I've gotten in the habit of updating Baz on the state of the school, in hopes of maybe convincing him to come back. It's...nice. We've never talked this much before. Surprisingly, Baz can be rather funny when applying that killer wit of his to something other than insulting me. I'm starting to look forward to hearing his reactions to the things I tell him, like today's anecdote. 

_When Gareth cast his spell, his pelvic thrust was so intense that he knocked Penny's books over. She chewed him out in front of the entire class. Miss Possibelf was too taken in like the rest of us to stop her. Pen was on a roll. I've never seen Gareth that red before. If he were me, he'd have gone off._

Baz laughs. His tone warm, not bitter for once. That's another thing I'm getting used to, Baz laughing. He does it sometimes now, and it gives me a sense of accomplishment every time.

 _Feel a bit bad honestly his magic instrument isn't his fault._ I continue to the sound of Baz's laughter in my head. _Even if he can be a bit of a prat about it, knocking over Pen's books was an accident. Not sure he deserved to be on the receiving end of one of her rants._

_No, I think he fully knows what he's doing._ Baz disagrees still snickering a little. _I would have liked to see Bunce take him down a peg. Crowley knows he needs to lose one, and Bunce does have one cutting tongue._ He almost sounds admiring. I've never heard him sound that way about Pen before. It's strange.

 _I'd have joined her._ Baz adds voice peppered with amusement. _I have a lot of insults saved up._

I'm smiling at the thought of Baz and Penn tag-teaming Gareth then I'm frowning. If he wanted to join so badly then why isn't he here? 

_Baz._ I say, staring at our ceiling. _Where are you really?_ I've asked it before, rebuffed each time I did, but after last night with my nightmare and our conversations this week ...maybe he'll answer me this time. 

There's a long pause. _You wouldn't believe me if I told you._ It's quiet, a bit shaky even.

His tone makes my insides twist, and it takes me a moment to understand what I'm feeling. 

It's worry and a bit of fear. All this time I'd never even considered... 

_Are you okay?_ I ask.

 _Why wouldn't I be?_ His voice still sounds off.

 _Seriously._ I say firm. _If you're hurting or held somewhere against your will then--_

It is all starting to make sense now. The nightmare I had wasn't a nightmare; it was a vision, a glimpse into Baz's head. Due to our magical mental connection. 

Dev and Niall not knowing where he is and looking more worried by the day. 

His insistence that he didn't break our promise. 

My heart's racing. My palms feel sweaty. _\--just tell me where you are._

_I'm--_

_\-- don't lie to me._

Another long pause. Baz loves a long dramatic pause (or maybe he's getting his thoughts together). 

_I don't know._ He finally admits. 

 

**Baz**

Snow's worry floods into me with the force of a freight train. It almost pushes me off the cot. 

_What do you mean?_ He demands. 

Fuck. Snow was never supposed to know. But he sounded so broken up about me not being there, and he has been so sweet this week, and he was so afraid last night, that I couldn't help myself.

The truth slipped out. 

I go to deny it again, but he cuts off my thought before it can finish forming. 

_Don't lie to me._ Snow says, angry, then softer more desperate. _Please._

I sigh. He already knows something is wrong and Snow's like a dog with a bloody bone when he hones in on something. 

And I'm just tired of it I think. And a bit scared. Maybe I don't feel like lying anymore. 

_I don't know where I am._ I repeat. _It's cold and damp. I think I'm underground? I'm not certain._

_How'd you get there?_ Simon asks tone unusually gentle. 

_I don't know._ I say again and take a deep breath. Acknowledging this to Simon is making it feel real now. My chest feels tight, and my eyes a little wet. 

_I-I don't know. Magic._

 

**Simon**

I've never heard Baz sound like this before. Almost panicked, but still attempting to keep a firm lid on his control. I wish he didn't feel the need to do that.

It doesn't matter anyway. I still hear it in Baz's voice. I still feel his fear in my heart. Maybe the connection is making it harder for him to disguise it, but I know. 

Baz is scared. 

I didn't even know Baz could get scared. He always seemed to be above it all. Like nothing could touch him or faze him. I've always been jealous of that. Now I'm starting to realize that I wasn't seeing Baz. 

I saw a mask. 

Baz isn't a supervillain. Baz is just a boy. Who snorts when he laughs, and jokes about his classmates, and gets scared. 

Baz is just a boy. 

Just like me. 

And hearing him like this makes my chest hurt. 

_Hey._ I say, softly. Softer than anything I've ever said to him. _What do you mean by magic?_

 _My kidnapper said he cast a spell._ Baz says. 

A chill goes down my spine at the word kidnapper. _Did he hurt you?_

_No._ Baz says. _But--_

 _\--But?_ I ask when he doesn't continue. 

_He's threatened to kill me._ Baz says, finally. 

_What?_ I ask. _Why?_

A longer pause this time. 

_I don't know._ Baz says. _He's holding me for ransom, I think. That's what he said._

_Ransom._ I muse. _Your family?_

_Who else would it be?_

Fair point. Still. _Has he said how much? Or has he let you talk to them at all?_

_No._ Baz says. _He hasn't said a word to me since I first woke up in here. Just leaves me food and water, and recasts the barrier spell._

So that was the thing in my vision. That invisible wall was a barrier spell, makes sense, which reminds me. _Do you have your wand?_

_No._ Baz says. 

_But you always have your wand._ I counter. Baz even sleeps with it, keeps it in his sleeve. I don't do that with mine. I tried once, and it kept falling out, so I gave up, chalking it up to yet another thing Baz was better at than me. 

_He said it was at Watford. It is probably tangled in my sheets._

I walk over Baz's bed as he speaks and run my hands over it, searching. _No, it isn't here._

_Has it fallen behind the headboard? Or under the bed?_

_No._ I say after doing a thorough check. _It isn't here._

_Odd._ Baz says, thoughtfully. _Well, I don't have it. I wonder if he took it while I was unconscious? Maybe it is still here somewhere._

_What if he snapped it in half?_ I ask worriedly. _So you couldn't use it to escape?_

_My wand is unbreakable._ Baz says, arrogantly. _It has half a dozen protection spells cast by four generations worth of Pitches on it. He couldn't break it._

That's impressive and yet unsurprising. Bloody Old Families. _Fine, what if he threw it away?_

_He'd have to be able to hold it to do that._

I tilt my head even if he can't see me. _What do you mean?_

_I spelled my wand to me._ Baz explains. _If it gets further than a few feet from my person, it starts burning. Getting more and more intense the further away it is from me._

_Why?_ I ask bemused. _It isn't like another magician could use it._

_No._ Baz agrees. _But it does keep people from stealing it from me. It's worth a healthy sum._

_You really don't like people touching your stuff._ I say, then pause. _Wait you just had me looking for your wand! I'd have burned my hand off!_

_I didn't ask you to start looking for it._ Baz says. _You did that yourself._

_You didn't stop me!_

_You'd have been fine._ Baz drawls. _You're basically made of fire, anyway._

I cannot believe the indignity. _Seriously?_

_Anyway._ Baz dismisses. He's such a prat. _Now that I know my wand is here, I can get it._ He sounds calmer already. _Then I can break out of here and be back to Watford by breakfast tomorrow._

 _How are you going to do that?_ I ask. _The wand isn't in the room with you. You'd have noticed that by now, which means there is a barrier spell keeping you from it._

_Oh, I know._ Baz says. _But barrier spells have a time limit, and I've seen the one he casts. He will have to recast it soon. In that brief second, before he does, I'll make a break for it, find my wand, and get out._

I feel a bit of hope at that. He sounds so in control now. No longer the panicking boy he was a minute ago. This is the Baz, I know. Arrogant, calm, and twelve steps ahead of everyone, always. 

_You've been planning this._ I note. 

_It isn't like there is anything else to do._ Baz says. _The only reason I haven't tried it yet is that he has a wand and I don't, but knowing mine is close to me, has to be, means I have a good shot at escaping._

 _So I'll see you soon then?_

_Very soon. He usually comes by every six hours. He's due in one._

_Oh._ I say. _Good, then._

A tense hour passes with neither of us speaking. We're just listening to each other. It isn't exactly like when we send thoughts back and forth, but I know Baz is listening like I am. We're together right now even if we're not. 

When he tenses, I feel it. _Is he here?_ I ask.

 _Yes._ Baz says. 

_Good luck._

_Thanks._

_I thought you said us saying thank you to each other was weird._

_Shut up, Snow._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _will baz's plan work? will simon ever acknowledge his feelings? find out next time on whenever the hell I'm posting!_
> 
>    
> this post was completed at 10:35 on a saturday night. so a surprisingly normal update time (well by my standards anyway).
> 
> um sorry about the cliffhanger?
> 
> -still sleep deprived.


	10. mirrors and sleight of hand

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> baz agrees with simon a lot, simon pushes for revenge, and they learn to trust each other.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey void, 
> 
> sorry this update took a little while. life happens ya know. like finally reading _Wayward Son_ which I thoroughly enjoyed by the way. it was lovely and realistic especially for someone who struggles with depression-related relationship drama. was refreshing to see. 
> 
> anyway enough of me waxing about _Wayward Son_ onto the story. and the cliffhanger (sorry). 
> 
> enjoy!
> 
> chapter title comes from _Remember the Tinman_ by Tracy Chapman

**Baz**

I hear the handle turning. I'm in the bathroom hidden behind the door, where he shouldn't be able to see me. Footsteps enter the room. A rustle of fabric as he pulls out his wand. 

In between one sound and the next, I'm swinging the bathroom door open and running. My shoulder checks into his as I dart out the open doorway.

The surprise yell behind me doesn't make me pause. I have to be quick. I can't afford to stop. I'm out in a narrow hallway just as damp and cold as my cell. The only light comes from the fire flickering in the sconces lining the walls. One of the flames goes out as I run past. There is too much moisture in here for anything to be lit for long. My own fire kept flickering too. Back when I thought I'd try to burn my way out of this. I'd throw a few fireballs at my barrier, but the spell absorbed them. 

I don't need light to see, though. 

I'm racing down the hallway, my head in constant motion looking for my wand. My guess is that it is about 10 metres from my cell. Maybe 12 if my kidnapper has a high pain tolerance. 

My wand is 14 metres from my cell. It's been kicked into a corner almost out of sight. But I spot it. The relief I feel at the familiar ivory is indescribable. I almost start crying. I reach down and pick it up, and a few tears do fall. I can't afford to wipe them away. I'm already on the move again. 

I hold my wand tightly in my hand. Then I cast **Map Marker Watford School of Magicks**. Arrows appear under my sprinting feet, and I follow them. 

_What spell is that?_ I hear Snow ask. I almost forgot he was here. 

_Guiding spell._ I answer. _Now I know where to go._ Then I pause (well mentally I do, physically I'm still running). _Wait, how did you know I cast a spell?_

_I can see you._ Snow says. _Well, I can see what you see. If I close my eyes and focus._

_How utterly disturbing._ I say, thinking of all the rats I've been drinking. _How long have you been able to do that?_

 _Just now._ Snow answers. _I wanted to know what was happening._

I don't have time to think that one over. Snow and I can deal with our weird magical mind connection once I'm back at Watford. 

_What's the plan?_ Snow asks. 

_Get out._ I answer. 

_That's it?_

_Yes._ I say. _What else would it be?_

_Aren't you going to fight him?_

_Why would I fight him?_

_He kidnapped you!_

_Yes, and I'm trying to rectify that._

_You should fight him._

_I should get out._ I correct. 

_Baz, he kidnapped you!_

_I'm aware._

_He should pay for that._

_I agree._

_Then make him pay!_

_Snow, my priority is getting back to Watford. He can pay for his crimes later._

_Why not now? You could beat him._

_Maybe._ I say. _Maybe not._

_You're powerful._

_So is he._ I say, thinking of the spells he's been casting. 

_You're more powerful._

Something warms in my heart, and I ignore it. _I'm not sure I am._ I say. _However, I am sure that I'm faster than him. My odds are better this way._

_And if he catches up to you?_

_Then I fight. But let's hope he doesn't._ Map Marker is a powerful spell that takes a lot of magic. If it weren't necessary to my escape, I wouldn't have bothered. But it is a maze down here, and I need the quickest, most efficient way out. I'd weighed the risks, and though the spell would require a lot of my magic, I was too much in the dark to not use it. I don't know where I am. Map Marker provides me a route to follow. 

_I still think you should fight._ Snow grumbles. 

_I planned this out._ I say. _Just trust me._ The hallway forks. The arrows go down the left corridor, so I go left. 

_That's a handy spell._ Snow says.

 _It is. Do shut up now, Snow. I need to focus._

Snow actually listens to me and stops talking. 

I can still feel him, though. Is he still looking through my eyes? 

Doesn't matter. The hallway turns into a staircase, that leads to another hallway, that leads to another staircase, until I'm standing in a large open room with a high ceiling and stone walls. 

_This looks like a castle._ Snow says — the first thing he's said in twenty minutes. 

_It does._ I agree with him. (I've agreed with Snow a lot recently. I'm trying not to think about it). 

_Is it a castle?_

_Who gives a shit._

_I'm just saying--_ Snow starts.

I don't get to find out what Snow was just saying because it is at the moment I hear it. 

I'd only paused for half a second. But that second was enough. 

I hear footsteps behind me. 

 

**Simon**

Baz starts running, but a voice behind him casts, " **Hit The Floor**." Baz falls.

But he is only down for half a second before he's on his feet again, whipping around, and I get the first look at his kidnapper. 

It is just a vaguely man shaped outline. There isn't anything there. 

"You're quick," the outline says thoughtfully. "And I see you've found your wand. Did you manage _A Run Like The Wind_? Bit advanced for your age." 

Baz doesn't answer just spreads his feet in a fighting stance and holds out his wand. I can't see his face, but I know his eyes are narrow and flashing silver. He's going to fight now. Good.

" **Bend Over Backwards** ," Baz casts his elocution as flawless as always.

The outline doesn't try to dodge. The spell hits, but it doesn't land. There's a shower of sparks, but he stays on his feet. 

"What?" Baz says before regaining his composure and casting again. " **Down For The Count**." 

Once again, the spell hits, but once again, the kidnapper remains standing. 

Baz doesn't try to cast again. He takes a step back. "What are you?" Baz asks. He's afraid, but his voice doesn't show it. 

"A magician like yourself," the outline replies. 

"Why aren't my spells working?"

"I'm absorbing them," the outline says. 

"How?" Baz asks. 

"Does it matter?" the outline asks. "Your spells won't work on me. You've got nowhere to go. I could spell you asleep again, but I'm not fond of wasting magic. Drop your wand. Return to your cell." 

Baz stares at him. I can feel his mind working even if I can't hear the thoughts. 

The kidnapper holds out a hand threateningly. I can see the outline of something on his wrist, but I'm not sure what it is. Whatever it is, it is doubtlessly his magical instrument. "You can fight me, but you'll lose. Drop. Your. Wand." 

_Baz._ I say. _Run._

_I can't._ Baz says. _He'll stop me._

_Cast something else._ I suggest. 

_He'll absorb it._

_Fireball him._

_Snow._ Baz's fingers start to loosen on his wand. 

I'm panicking. The smell of smoke surrounds me, and I feel like I'm burning. But I keep my eyes closed. I should be there for real, instead of just trapped inside of Baz's head helplessly watching as he's recaptured. If I was there, I could save him.

If I was there... 

_Cast Damsel in Distress._ I say. 

_What?_

_Cast Damsel in Distress on yourself._

_What good will that do?_

_Just do it._

_Snow..._

_Baz trust me._

For a moment, he doesn't do anything. I'm holding my breath. Then Baz's fingers tighten, and he spins his wand until it faces him. " **Damsel in Distress** ," he casts. 

The air around him shimmers. 

I exhale. 

"Have it your way," the outline says, his wrist glowing. " **Sweet Dreams**." 

Baz's eyes shut, and I'm yanked out of his head. 

_Baz!_ I yell. But he can't hear me. He's alive, though. Just unconscious. _I'm coming for you._ I promise him even if he can’t hear it. I get to my feet. _I'm coming for you, Baz._

_I'll save you._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this post was completed at 1:00 on a Friday morning. so not the greatest, but also not the worst given my history.
> 
> -still sleep deprived.


	11. go find your heart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> simon becomes baz’s knight in shining armor (and is maybe getting around to the realization he’s been ignoring).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey void, 
> 
> sorry (happy?) to say we are reaching the end of this adventure. I'm figuring on there being about two chapters left in this maybe three if I end up doing an epilogue. who knows? it's me. ya never know what you'll be getting. I'm like the roulette wheel of updates. (does that metaphor work? ....gosh I'm tired). 
> 
> anyyyyyway
> 
> enjoy!
> 
> chapter title comes from _Remember the Tinman_ by Tracy Chapman

**Baz**

In an unwelcome feeling of déjà vu, I wake up on the cot in my cell, shivering. My head still feels heavy, a result of being spelled asleep, no doubt, when I hear a soft voice say my name. 

_Baz?_

Simon. Right. 

_Yes?_

_Oh, good, you're awake._ Snow says. _I was getting worried._

I smile a little. He has to stop saying shit like that. Or I'm going to say something stupid. _Right well, I'm awake now._

_Are you back in the cell?_

_Yes._

_And you don't have your wand?_

_No._

_Okay._ Snow says, not sounding surprised or concerned. _Repeat after me. Simon My Knight in Shining Armor_

_What?_

_Simon My Knight in Shining Armor._ Snow repeats.

I blink. _What?_

_Just say it._

_Have you lost your mind, Snow?_

_It's the incantation._ Snow says. _For the spell, I had you cast. Damsel in Distress, remember?_

 _I do._ I say warily. _And I don't see how that relates to you being my knight in shining armor. Or how it helps me get out of here._

 _It's so I can find you._ Snow explains. _Penny made the spell for Agatha last year._

_Bunce made a spell?_

_Yes. If you say the words, a line will appear, and all I have to do is follow that line until I reach you._

An image gets pushed into my head. _Wellbelove is standing in front of me. "Simon My Knight in Shining Armor," she says, and the air shimmers around her before forming into a line._

 _See._ Snow says.

 _How did you do that?_ I demand. _How did you just give me a memory?_

 _Dunno._ Snow replies. The kind of magic he can just do sometimes is unbelievable, beaten out only in how prone he is to dismissing it. Like the shit, he pulls is normal. 

_Anyway._ Snow continues. _Will you say it now? Bit of a hurry._

__

_Are you seriously offering to rescue me?_

_Yes._

_I'm not Wellbelove, Snow._

_Obviously._ Snow agrees. _You’re not blonde. Say the incantation Baz._

 _But we're enemies?_ I try. It sounds like a question. _You hate me._

 _I hate kidnappers more._ Snow says. _Say it._

I sigh. What do I really have to lose at this point? "Snow My Knight in Shining Armor," I drawl. 

Nothing happens. 

_Baz, you have to use my first name._

He must be looking through my eyes again. Whatever I don't care. 

"Simon My Knight in Shining Armor," I say sarcastically. 

Nothing. 

_You have to mean it._

Ugh, this spell is so picky. _Fine._

I close my eyes and picture Simon. A cast of sunlight glowing around his head, lightening his curls into some sort of righteous halo, holding his sword and smiling at me with blazing blue eyes. I take a breath and open mine. " **Simon My Knight in Shining Armor** ," I say, and this time I feel the magic. The air shimmers until I'm looking at a faint sliver line. I reach up to touch it. It warms my fingertips. 

_It worked!_ Snow says. _I can see the line!_

I'm smiling despite myself. _Bunce made this?_

_Isn't Pen brilliant?_

Yes. I think, but don't say. 

_She's fine._ Is what I actually say. 

_You know she's brilliant._ Snow persists. 

I don't respond. 

_You do._ Snow says, and I can hear the knowing amusement. 

I don't dispute him. 

_Right then._ He says. _I'll just follow this line until I find you._

I pause, frowning. _You're actually serious about this?_

_I told you I was._

_Snow think about it for a second—_

_— what's there to think about?_ Snow interrupts. _You need rescuing._

I bristle a bit at that.

_I rescue people all the time._ He continues. _Really it's a no brainer Baz._

I sigh. _You don't even know what you're getting into, Snow._

_I never do._

Of course, he doesn't. _That doesn't reassure me._

_It should._ Snow says. _Nothing's beaten me yet._

_That's because you're a nuclear bomb not because going in blind is a good idea._

_A nuclear bomb that's coming to save you._ Snow chirps.

How is he so cheerful right now?

_How are you so cheerful right now?_

_Dunno._ Snow says. _Guess I like having a mission. Not knowing where you were was driving me mad._

I tilt my head. _Why?_

 _Well, at first I thought you were plotting against me._ Snow explains.

 _Right._ I say remembering the first thing he sent to me after our mind meld (or well the second thing, the actual first thing being my name). _And now?_

 _Dunno._ Snow says again. He acts like that’s the only word he knows (and it isn’t even a proper word. It’s slang. Honestly). _Does it matter?_

_It should._

_Why?_

_Motivation is usually something people think about before acting Snow._

_What are we in a movie now? Who cares about my motivation?_

_I care._

_My motivation is to rescue you._

_That's a goal, not a motivation._ I argue. _Why are you doing it?_

_I dunno. Cause._

_Cause is not a motivation either._

_Who gives a shit._

_I do. I'd like to know the motives of my savior._

 

**Simon**

I'm not sure why Baz won't let this go. And I'm also not sure why it is bothering me so much.

 _I just do, okay?_ I say, yanking on my boots. _Do you want to be rescued or not?_

Baz doesn't say anything for a moment. _Just be careful._ He finally says, quietly. 

A jolt of warmth hits me, and I feel myself blushing. _Since when do you care about my wellbeing?_

_Since it became directly related to getting me out of this cell._

_Fair._ I say, but I'm still blushing. I clear my throat despite knowing he can't hear it and get to my feet. I follow the line to my door (our door), then pause and open the bathroom door instead. I walk over to the sink, wetting my hands and running my fingers over my curls. Something about this situation is ringing a dim bell. I think of Penny's theory. About Baz and the letter. _I've taken the person who means the most to you._ I look at my reflection in the mirror before shaking my head and leaving the en suite. 

_You've been quiet._ Baz notes.

 _I'm thinking._ I say.

_Oh, are you? Good for you. Reconsidered this insane plan, have we?_

_No._ I say, shutting our door behind me and following the silver line down the stairs. 

_What were you thinking about then?_ Baz asks. 

_Nothing._

_Can't have been nothing. That's the quietest you've been since you melded our minds excluding when you've been asleep._

_That's not true._ I protest. _I spent a good 15 hours, not speaking to you._

 _14 and a half._ Baz disagrees. _At best._

_I didn't know you kept track._

_Not like there was anything else to do._

I'm taking two stairs at a time. I know I'm rushing, but who knows how much longer I'll have until the kidnapper comes back. _If you don't show up within the next three weeks, then they die._

It's been two since Baz disappeared.

I exit Mummer's, debating about stopping and grabbing Penny from wherever she currently is. _Don't test me, though. I'm already running low on patience with this entire situation._

I decide this can't wait for Penny, and I turn in the direction of the front gates, running my fingers across the silver line connecting me to Baz. The warmth is reassuring. I can see the start of snow on the ground, but I'm not cold. I feel like I'm burning up. Like I always do before a fight. 

_"It fits too well for it not to be Baz."_

_"He isn't the person who means the most to me. That would be Agatha or you or The Mage. Not Baz, who hates me."_

_Penny tilts her head at me._

I start running as if I can outpace the revelation nipping at my heels. Baz isn't the most important person to me. 

_Who knows, maybe I'll kill them sooner._ I can feel my edges blurring. My heart going almost as fast as my feet, which feel lighter than before. 

Baz isn't the most important person to me. 

_Snow?_

But that doesn't mean that I won't save him. 

_Simon what are you—_

The fire in me burns until it bursts out completely. Flames surround me.

I go off. 

The familiar Watford grounds shift. A moment, and I'm floating in nothing, I blink, and I'm in front of an honest to Merlin castle. Standing, staring at the silver line going directly into the front door. _Baz?_

 _Simon!_ He sounds distressed. _What the hell happened? Did you go off? Did something attack you? Are you okay?_

I look at the castle exterior. The sets of armor framing the door on each side. One of the stone knights is missing a sword. I see the rubble at his feet. The other knight is holding out a wand (or well, part of a wand—the handle part). The rest of it must be where the sword remains are. They're both broken and falling apart. The age hangs from the overgrown grass and uneven path. It has clearly seen better days, but I can see a hint of shine in one of the windows, stained glass, I think. 

_I didn't know magicians had castles._

_Snow._ Baz somehow manages to sound both relieved and exasperated at the same time. _What the actual bloody hell._

 _No time to explain._ I tell him already back to running and rapidly approaching the door.

 _There's always time for explanations._ Baz fumes. _A simple, "Yes, Baz, I'm fine, Baz, thanks for your concern."_

_I thought you said me thanking you was weird._

_Morgana, Snow!_

_I'm fine._ I say, giving in. _And I'm here._

_What do you mean you're here?_

I hover my hand over my hip. " _In justice. In courage. In defence of the weak. In the face of the mighty. Through magic and wisdom and good_." The Sword of Mages materializes in my hand. I hold it tight. 

I push open the castle doors. 

_I'm here to save you._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _cue superhero music_
> 
> this post was completed at 3:24 on a Friday morning. don't have to be up for work till later, but still. really looking forward to this fic being over. as much fun as I've been having with it. I'd like a normal sleep time thingy (just kidding friends I never hadddd oneee). 
> 
> -still sleep deprived. (clearly).


	12. and take it back

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> simon and baz say each other’s names a lot. the stakes are raised and simon makes a choice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey, void 
> 
> sorry about the lack of updates. life got busy. really really busy and I got into a bit of a depressive slump. but I'm feeling much better now and I'm ready to start writing again. I'm not sure when the final chapter will be up since I am currently doing nano 2019 for some bizarre reason (honestly what am I doing with my life. does anyone know?) also I'm super glad the whole mind communication thing is over cause making all of those exchanges italic was quite a time. a bad time. a long and painful bad time. 
> 
> anywayyyy, thanks to all of you for your support of this work! really means a lot to me friends. 
> 
> enjoy!
> 
> chapter title comes from _Remember the Tinman_ by Tracy Chapman

**Baz**

_I'm here to save you._

I'm sitting on my cot staring at the door, pondering that surreal message. Simon Snow, my arch-nemesis. Mage's Heir. Chosen One. The boy I'm hopelessly in love with is here to save me. 

Me the person he hates the most. Me the vampire. Me, the bad guy in the story of his life. 

The hero is coming to save the villain. 

Simon is coming to save me. 

Honestly, what is the world coming to, am I dreaming? There is no way this is real. Maybe this has all been in my head. Snow's voice. The silver line. All of it. It's been weeks since I've seen the outside world. This may be just a vivid hallucination brought upon by a lack of proper food and sleep. 

I've convinced myself of this, but then the door to my cell opens, and Simon Snow is standing in the doorway, holding his sword with a determined look on his face. "Baz," he says, and I've never heard him say my name like that. Like until now, he's been holding his breath. Like it's a relief to say it. He smiles at me. 

"Snow," I return, trying to look composed and like my eyes aren't in danger of being blinded by the light of his smile.

He walks towards me, pausing when he runs into the barrier. "Stay back," he tells me then raises his sword and swings it at the barrier. 

There's a sound like shattering glass, and then Snow is dropping the sword and rushing over to me. He takes hold of my shoulders. "Are you okay?" 

I don't know what face I'm making, but whatever it makes him frown. "Baz? What's wrong?" 

"Nothing," I say, getting to my feet. "I'm fine." 

Snow doesn't let go of my shoulders even if it means reaching up a bit due to our height difference. "Are you sure? You look a little pale." 

"I'm always pale, Snow." 

**Simon**

He's here in front of me. A little gray looking and tired around the eyes, but he's here. I feel a weight on my chest lift. I feel like I can breathe again. He's here. I found him. I grip his shoulders tighter. 

I don't know why, but I don't want to let them go even if Baz is looking at me a little funny now. 

"Snow," he says, trying to get my attention. I just keep staring at him. He looks drained, and his hair is a mess, but he's alive. 

He's alive, and until this moment I hadn't realized how worried I'd been. How much that possibility had haunted me. 

How scared I was. 

"Baz," I say again and use my hold on his shoulder to pull him. He stumbles a bit, but I wrap my arms around him before he can fall. 

"Snow," he says, and he sounds off. "What are you doing?" 

I ignore him and hold him tighter. He's here. I press my face into his shoulder. I'm shaking a little. 

"Hey," Baz says, voice gone a lot softer. "Simon, what are you doing?" 

I don't have an answer to that. All I know is that the feeling of him in my arms is soothing something in me that I had no idea had been hurting. 

**Baz**

Simon Snow is holding me. 

The hero is holding the villain. 

He's so warm. 

**Simon**  


After a moment, Baz returns my embrace. He practically melts into me. I smile into his shoulder. He's safe. I've found him.

Now I'm not letting him go.

"What are we doing?" He asks me. 

"I don't know," I say back. 

"We should go," Baz says, but his arms tighten around me. 

"Yes," I say and reluctantly pull back. Baz follows my lead, and his arms drop. I miss them immediately. 

He starts towards the door, and my chest constricts. I don't want him too far away. I just got him back. I reach over and grab his hand. 

Baz stops walking. He turns his head towards me, raising an eyebrow. 

I missed that. I shrug at him.

Baz's eyebrow rises higher, but thankfully he doesn't let go. 

I grin and pick my sword back up with my free hand. "Let's go." 

"Please," Baz says, and together, we walk through the door. The minute we exit, Baz's shoulders relax a fraction. 

"You remember the route you took getting here?" Baz asks me. 

"Just follow me," I say and tug on his hand. 

"It isn't like I have a choice," Baz says. I assume he's referring to me holding his hand in a death grip. 

**Baz**

I'm referring to the fact that Snow is gripping my hand like he's worried it will fall off if he doesn't. 

I can't say I mind. 

**Simon**

"So how did you get here anyway?" Baz asks me as we race through the corridors of the castle. 

"I dunno," I say. "I sort of went off, I think? It felt like I went off, and now I'm here." 

**Baz**  


Honestly, why do I even bother asking? His answer is always some combination of _I dunno_ and god-like feats of magic.

Honestly. 

**Simon**

"Well, do you think you could do it again?" Baz asks. 

I shake my head. "Maybe, but I'd rather not chance it. Who knows where we'd end up or if you'd even come with me when I did it." 

"Too many unknown variables," Baz agrees (or well I think he agrees. It sounds like he agrees). 

Still I keep the idea in the back of my head just in case, even if right now my plan is basically to get Baz out of here and also maybe kinda kill the person who was holding him hostage (or perhaps I'll just maim them a little before turning them over to the coven. I'll see how I feel). 

However, it looks like I am not going to have the chance to either kill or maim his kidnapper as the kidnapper has yet to show his face (which is annoying and going against the rules of this whole rescue thing. At least Agatha's kidnappers were punctual). 

Baz doesn't seem to share my annoyance, on the contrary, he seems to be getting more and more pleased the longer we go without seeing another person (maybe he has a point with that, but honestly, I'm too angry to care). 

Though I suppose our luck couldn't last (or well Baz's luck. It's Lucky for me, I suppose). Since once we reach the main hall, there is an outline of a man standing in front of us. He is really unsettling to look at, so I decide to file him in my monsters to slay bin and ignore the fact that this is a person. The not seeing a face thing really helps with that. 

"How sweet," the outline says, looking at our hands. "I'm glad you finally decided to turn up Simon. I was getting worried that you wouldn't. Of course, I'd have rather you follow the directions I left you, but beggars can't be choosers," he adds without magic.

I drop Baz's hand and move to stand in front of him. I hear a protest from behind me; I just raise my sword in response. 

"There's no need for that," the outline says, waving at the Sword of Mages. "I just need something from you. A simple transaction, and you both are free to go." 

"What transaction?" Baz asks for some reason. What does it matter what the outline wants? He kidnapped Baz; he deserves to pay for that. 

The outline ignores him and keeps his attention focused on me. "You have more than you should," he tells me cryptically. "More than anyone should really. I just want the excess you can keep the rest." 

"What are you talking about?" Baz asks. He sure does ask a lot of questions. Doesn't he know that this isn't the time for talking? It is time for hitting things with a sword. Fighting, you know? Not having a bloody conversation. 

I start towards the outline until his next words make me pause in my tracks. "You took too much. You took it from those who now have nothing. From places that now have nothing. They didn't know what they were doing when they made you." 

"When who made me?" I ask. Great, now I'm asking questions. This situation is going perfectly. "What did I take?" 

"Magic," the outline says. "You took our magic, and I want it back."

"You can't take away another mage's magic!" Baz protests. "That's impossible." 

"You can," the outline disagrees. "I can. I have been for the past few months. I started just draining different magical landmarks until I ran out of magic. Then I looked to other mages." He shrugs (or I think that's a shrug it is kind of hard to tell). "It works, believe me."

"Why go after Snow then?" Baz asks, still bloody asking questions. "Because he's the most powerful?" 

I don't know why it makes me happy to hear Baz call me that. It's the truth, so it shouldn't make me feel like standing taller all of a sudden. 

"Because he wasn't supposed to have it," the outline says. "He took too much. Took what wasn't his, to begin with, and now he has to give it back." The outline moves, and I get the impression that he is staring into my eyes now. "You took our magic," the outline repeats. 

"Snow don't listen to him," Baz says. "This is clearly the ramblings of a mad man. You couldn't have taken his magic. He obviously has it." Baz gestures to his current state of being a magical outline. 

"That's because I had to take some," the outline says. "Just like you did." 

"But I didn't take anything!" I protest. "I would have remembered taking someone's magic! I can't imagine that would be a forgettable experience!" 

"You were too young," the outline says. "So so young. Unfairly so." 

"I don't know what the hell you are on about," I say, ignoring the twisting his words are leaving in my stomach. "But Baz is right. We're done here." I grip my sword tight and charge at him. 

"So be it," the outline says. " **Stand Your Ground**." I burn off the spell with my magic. I can do that sometimes if my will is strong enough (it is very strong now). 

" **Tripping On Air** ," he casts another, and I raise my hand and swat the spell away. My magic burning bright against his green fire until it goes out. 

"So much magic," the outline says, and there is jealousy in his voice. "Just given to you. You didn't have to fight for it at all." 

I'm ignoring him, burning past every spell, he sends my way. I'm an unstoppable force just like Baz said, and I'll be crashing into him soon. 

Maybe he realized that, and maybe I got too cocky. Maybe I just wasn't used to fighting with someone nearby (Penny hardly counts in that. When we're fighting together, we're practically just one well-oiled machine). 

Because after his fifth spell fails, the kidnapper changes tactics. He points his hand at Baz.

" **On Your Last Legs** ," he casts. 

Things seem to slow down. I can't tell if I'm doing it. I see the bolt of green hit Baz square in the chest, and he crumples. 

"Baz!" I shout, running over to him. "Are you okay?" 

Baz cracks open an eye at me, but instead of answering, he coughs. 

"He won't be for much longer," the outline says. 

"What did you do to him!" I demand. 

The outline seems to be shaking his head. "Really, what are they teaching at Watford these days." 

When I just continue to glare at him, he sighs. "On your last legs," he says without magic. "Means essentially that the person is close to dying. It's a slow death." 

"What?" I say, looking at Baz. Is he looking paler? Or is it just me? 

"It is reversible," the outline continues. "It takes a lot of magic and skill." 

I cross over to him. "Fix him," I growl. "Or else." 

"I told you already," the outline says. "If you give me what I want, you can both go free. I didn't want to have to resort to killing Baz, such a promising young magician after all, but desperate times call for desperate measures." 

I look from the outline to Baz's prone form. 

"He has about an hour I'd say," the outline says. "That is usually how long the spell takes. In the meantime, he'll be in agony. Barely able to lift his head." 

Perhaps just to be stubborn, Baz raises his head to glare at his kidnapper. The kidnapper doesn't seem very impressed, and Baz can't hold the gaze long before his head is dropping back onto the ground with a cry.

"Baz!" I yell again. The only answer I get is another cry of pain. 

"It will only get worse the longer you delay." 

"Make it stop," I demand through a choked up throat. I raise my sword until it is inches away from his neck. "Now." 

"If you kill me, there is nothing you can do to save him," the outline says. "You don't know the counterspell. The only way to save him is to give me your magic." 

I scream, but it doesn't change anything. Baz is still whimpering in pain though I know he is trying to be quiet about it. 

"It's my magic," I say. "I can't give it to you."

"It isn't yours," the outline says. "Will you let him die just to hold onto something you stole?" 

I look at Baz. He closed his eyes, and his expression is tight with pain. He is breathing hard. Still, he tries to speak. "Don't do it, Snow," he says. "Don't give him your magic." 

I walk over and kneel beside Baz. He breathes out what I think is a sigh of relief and takes my hand. I can feel wetness behind my eyes. 

"I just found you," I protest. 

"I know," he whispers. "But you can't give up your magic. You're too important." 

"To the world of mages?" Am I just the Chosen One to him? 

"To everything." Baz's gray eyes are like lights in the fading darkness. All of him is slowly fading. He's growing weaker before my eyes. "Simon, you're everything." 

His words punch a hole straight through my chest. That's not true. When he went missing, I couldn't stand it. I thought he was plotting against me, but in reality, I was worried. I don't have a life if I don't have him. 

I know now. I'm not everything. Baz is everything. 

And I'm not losing him again. 

"No," I say, shaking my head and letting go of his hand. 

"Simon," Baz says. "What are you doing?" 

I get to my feet. "Saving you," I answer. "Like I told you, I would." 

"Not at the cost of your magic!" Baz protests. 

I ignore him and approach the outline. "If I do this, you'll fix him?" 

The outline nods. 

"Shake on it," I say, holding out my wand. 

He gives me his hand, and it is a cold watery texture. I don't like it. " **A Gentleman's Word Is His Bond**." I cast, and my magic lights up the air between us. 

"Come with me," the outline orders walking towards the center of the room. I follow. 

"Simon," Baz calls from behind me. "Don't do this."

"I can't just let you die, Baz," I say. 

"Why the hell not?" Baz demands, and I've never heard him sound so angry and in so much anguish. 

It's the latter that cements it. I'm doing this. 

"Simon, why would you give up your magic for me!" Baz yells. 

I don't reply. 

"Because you're his heart," the outline answers for me. 

I don't dispute him.

He might be right.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this post was completed at 6:50 on a Thursday morning. I have work at 12:30. 
> 
> pray for me. 
> 
> -still sleep deprived.


	13. hollow body

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> a kidnapper’s origin story.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey void, 
> 
> so I know that I said that there are only going to be thirteen chapters. okay, I know that was the plan, but then I sort of got carried away with backstory, and here we are? 
> 
> meaning that if you are wondering about the motivations of our lovely kidnapper, wonder no more! I am taking so many liberties with canon right now. like so so many of them. I've lost track, just like I've lost track of my life! ha, funny old world. 
> 
> anyhoo the next and final chapter will up soon! I think. I hope. 
> 
> god, I hope. 
> 
> enjoy!
> 
> chapter title comes from _Remember the Tinman_ by Tracy Chapman

**Brookes**

After everything, the moment is here. All this time spent laying low and pouring over text after text, and at long last, I finally have my chance. 

The boy is here, Davy's boy, or rather Davy's homemade Chosen One. Since from what I've heard, Davy is not very involved in the boy's life outside of his role as The Mage (and wasn't that a shock when I heard it). 

I'm in exile from The World of Mages to some extent (can't very well be a part of the magical community without magic), but I still have my sources, which means that I know the tragic tale that led to Davy becoming The Mage. More than what I heard even since I have details that others don't. I know the man that Davy is, and I know how far he will go to accomplish his goals. Still, I hadn't entirely believed that Davy could stoop so low. I mean working with vampires for Merlin's sake, you don't get much lower than that. 

Nonetheless, I hadn't fully gotten the picture until after Davy showed up with his heir a few years later. After that, things started to lock into place. I knew that something had happened that night (after all, I am living breathing proof), but I hadn't been sure of what exactly Davy was planning on doing with all that magic. Initially, I had expected him to use it on himself (for years I thought that had been his plan), but I should have known better. Davy was obsessed with The Greatest Mage prophecy in school, so it tracked that he'd eventually try to make it happen. 

I had never expected him to go this route, but I suppose it was effective. His boy is brimming with magic (bloody hell he lit up the entire magickal atmosphere when he came into his power). He isn't like any other mage before or after him. His magic is undeniably powerful. 

But that's because it isn't his. 

Sure being the child of Davy and Lucy (at least I believe his mother is Lucy I can't say for sure, but the boy does look like her), he has to have some magic of his own, but the rest is of it is just shoved in. Looking at him now, I can see the cracks. The parts of his magic that don't fit with the rest. He's a mismatched jigsaw puzzle put together with super glue. It's unsettling. 

He is the result of Davy's experiments all those years ago. One of which I was a part of (unwillingly I might add). I hadn't known what I was signing up for at the time. I hadn't been in contact with Davy since we graduated. I thought he'd forgotten me in favor of his obsession with class divides and The Greatest Mage. So when he reached out to me, I was admittedly curious. After all, we were roommates for eight years, and while we hadn't exactly been close, I had always considered him a friend. Enough that I'd tolerated his oddities and his rants. Sometimes he even made a couple of good points. The one about power tests, in particular, got to me. Since I had barely gotten into Watford myself (mostly by the sway of my last name alone), I could understand why he saw the tests as unjust. Why should mages of lesser power not be allowed to study what little magic they have? I was a bit impressed with him actually since he didn't have that problem. In fact, he had the opposite experience since he had gotten into Watford regardless of his last name because he was too powerful to ignore. 

Perhaps I should have been resentful of that. I was at first. It was difficult being roommates with someone who always succeeded. Who never had to worry about his magic, not being there for him when he needed it. Everything always came easy to Davy, and in spite of that, he hated the system. It was admirable. 

So when he asked me to join him for lunch to talk about his plans, I went. Call it childhood nostalgia or a still-present desire to see if his dreams would succeed. Whatever it had been, it led to me showing up in a little cafe where we'd talked for hours over sandwiches and coffee. 

At first, it had been pleasantries. 

"How have you been Brookes?" he asked me with that familiar tilt to his eyebrows that clued me in to the fact he was listening to me intently. 

"Well enough," I told him. "I'll be graduating in a couple of months, so that's something to look forward to." I had taken another sip of my latte. "How have you been?" 

"Good," he'd answered. "Lucy and I are still together; we are even considering getting a place." 

"No, kidding?" I'd asked. "How has she been?" 

"She's been great," he'd said with that smile he reserved just for her. "We're great." 

"Well, I'm happy for you," I said. 

He'd smiled. "Are you seeing anyone?" 

"Not at the moment," I answered. "Between classes and work, I don't have the time." 

Davy ripped off a piece of his sandwich, but he hadn't eaten it. "Forgive me if I'm overstepping, but why are you working? Aren't your parents helping you?" 

I had looked away, studying the foam in my cup. The barista had drawn a feather. "No, we aren't in communication right now. I've mostly cut ties with them." 

"I'm sorry," Davy had said, and when I finally met his eyes, I could see that he meant it. 

I laughed awkwardly. "Well, you always said they were sectarian." 

"I did," he said. "But you never agreed with me, why the change of heart?" 

"They didn't really give me much choice they disowned me," I said. "They don't approve of my lifestyle. They," I had paused, a bit choked up. "They don't want anything to do with a gay son who barely has enough magic to cast a heating spell." My laugh had been bitter. "I'm worthless to them." 

Davy hadn't said anything for a while. Long enough that I started to think, he also disapproved. Long enough that I was considering getting up and storming out, he wouldn't have been the first friend I lost over my sexuality, and he wouldn't be the last. 

Then he'd put his hand over mine on the table, and I froze. "They're bigots," he said. "They can't handle anything that will shake their views. You're right to cut ties with them, Brookes; they aren't worth it." 

I had been blown away. I'd come out to people before. The small community I had been able to find once I moved away had been incredibly welcoming, but I had told no one from the magical community besides my parents. I hadn't thought that they would be willing to listen. I had taken a chance on Davy knowing his views on other topics, but honestly, I had not really expected him to accept it. Accept me. 

I'd smiled. "It is really good to hear to say that." 

Maybe I had been foolish, taken in by his easy acceptance or the lack of other mages in my life. But from then on, I did what he asked of me. I assisted him in his research. I went to the meetings he had started to form with other people he'd recruited. 

For months I had been at his beck and call, so I hadn't noticed anything out of the ordinary when he had telephoned me one night asking for my help with something. 

"Davy, it's two in the morning, can't this wait?" I'd asked him wearily. 

"No," he told me. "No, it has to be now. The timing is too perfect." 

"All right," I'd said. "When and where?" 

When I showed up, I had a feeling that this wouldn't be a typical research get together. The symbols we had studied in the _Acciperenecron_ were carved into the wooden floorboards. Candles were placed in multiple areas around the room, and they were flickering in the chill from the open window. 

Davy was standing in the middle of the most prominent symbol, flicking through a weighty tome, his wand as always tucked away in his jeans. 

He'd looked up when he heard me enter. "Brookes," he'd said, smiling. "You made it." 

I returned his smile though mine probably looked more nervous than cheerful. "I did, now are you going to tell me what we are doing?" 

"I need your help in testing a theory," Davy answered. 

I had ignored the racing of my heartbeat and how very wrong the entire situation had felt. "That's what you said. What's the theory?" 

"Well, we know that every mage gets their power from the magickal atmosphere," he said. "And over the past couple of months, we've been looking into power absorption alternatives. Ways we can gain magic through other means outside of the magickal atmosphere." 

"So that mages like me without much magic can be equal to those with more," I said. 

Davy nodded. "To help even the balance of power, yes. So far, we've been able to absorb power from magical landmarks and artifacts, but not enough to make any sort of difference." 

I nodded and wondered where he was going with this. I was starting to feel a knot in my stomach. "Right." 

"So, I was wondering if it would be possible to absorb magic from another mage," Davy had finished. 

I had just stared at him. At the time, I hadn't believed he could even think up something like that, let alone be willing to test it out. "But you can't take another mage's magic, and even if you could, it would be wrong! Could you imagine the kind of havoc something like that could wreck on our world?"

Davy had shrugged. "It would be a fair price to pay to equal the distribution of power of magic. It would be the ultimate way of evening the score." 

When I had not answered, Davy had stepped out of the symbol and walked over to where I stood. He put his hands on my shoulders and stared into my eyes earnestly. "Think about it, Brookes. A world where no one has more magic than anyone else. A world where you can be equal with them. Where they would no longer be able to call you worthless, a world where you'd be like me impossible to ignore." He'd smiled. "That's the world I want for you. For us. For the future generations of mages that come after. Don't you want that too?" 

I had been able to see it. The world he described. I had pictured walking up to my parents full of magic and making them acknowledge me. It was a tempting image, but I still had been unsure. 

"Davy, that all sounds great," I said. "But taking another mage's magic? I can't imagine anyone being willing to give theirs up. Even in the name of equality. It's unthinkable." 

"They wouldn't be giving it all up," Davy said. "Just enough to even the balance. They would still have their magic. They would just have less of it." 

"Would you be willing to do it?" I had asked him. "Give up some of your magic?" 

"That's why I asked you here," Davy said. "I want to see if I can balance our magic. If this works, you and I will walk away with the same amount." 

The knot in my stomach was turning tighter, but in the end, I agreed. Davy was offering to give me some of his magic and all the power that came with it. I hadn't been able to resist. 

To this day, I don't know what to think about what happened. I know how it all went down. Davy had set the _Acciperenecron_ aside and stepped back into the center of the symbol he'd been standing in when I entered. He then instructed me to stand in the smaller symbol carved directly in front of it. 

Then he'd taken out his wand. 

From there, things start to blur. My memories are hazy and fluid. I remember the glow our magics (mine a dull green, his a bright gold) pouring into the symbols around us before following along a path towards each other. 

I remember how it felt when our magics connected, and I remember how it felt when his started to pull. 

I still don't have words for what I experienced. I can't explain how it feels to have your magic ripped away from you, but it isn't anything pleasant. It feels like your breath is being stolen from your lungs. Like your heart is going to burst out of your chest. 

It feels like a part of you that had always been there is gone now. Something so essential to your soul that once it is gone, it leaves a hole that nothing can fill. 

When the last of my magic had been wrenched from me, I hadn't been able to take the pain, and I'd passed out. I awoke to Davy's concerned face hovering over me. 

"Brookes?" He had sounded so worried. "Brookes? Can you hear me?" 

"Davy?" I had slowly sat up, realizing I wasn't on the floor anymore, but on a soft surface instead, a bed. "What happened?" 

Once he knew I was awake, Davy had retaken the chair beside my bedside. "The spell went wrong somehow," he answered. "I may have made a miscalculation. I don't feel any differently, but you passed out, so something must have gone wrong. How are you feeling?" 

I remember putting my hand over my chest, feeling the racing of my heart, and feeling the lack of something else. 

"Hollow," I answered. "I feel hollow." 

I don't know if Davy intended to take my magic. His face had seemed horrified enough. We tried repeating the spell a week later, but the effect stayed the same. My magic was gone, and his wasn't. 

I couldn't stay after that. I had barely been a mage before, and I certainly wasn't one now. I cut off my ties from The World of Mages completely this time. At first, I had been able to trick myself into believing that it was for the best. That I hadn't had enough magic to merit mourning about, but the lack of it ate at me. 

I may not have had a lot of magic, but I had enough to notice when it was gone, and it became a hole in my soul that I couldn't fill. Not with drugs or alcohol or sleeping around. Nothing I did could ever come close to the feeling of magic burning in my chest. 

I needed that again. I needed magic again. So I went looking for a way to get it back. I tracked down other members of Davy's group and discovered that they had a similar experience to mine. Same spell gone wrong. Same lack of magic. Davy remaining unaffected. 

I started to get more suspicious after that. I didn't want to believe my friend was capable of that, capable of hurting me so completely, but the evidence was stacking up against him. It continued to grow with his rise to power. In the end, Davy got his dream, but the price of it was high. 

And I don't intend for him to keep it. Once I get my magic back from his boy, I'm taking the fight to him. I am going to make sure that no one else suffers as a result of his dream.  


I spare a look for the Pitch boy before leading Simon to the center of the room, where I've carved two symbols. 

No one else.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this post was completed at 5:35 on a thrusday morning. I don't even know what is happening with my life right now. like please, can someone tell me? 
> 
> also I have a tumblr now friends. come find me @sleepdeprivedphilosopher
> 
> -still sleep deprived.


End file.
